Believe Me
by dmnchld1029
Summary: Jade is adrift following her breakup. Cat's lost in her own way. This is them repossessing themselves.  summary subject to future change as story develops; rated M now, nothing major yet. *shrug* Eventual/gradual Cade
1. Chapter 1 Lost As You

I called Cat's house, to give her parents a heads up that she was going to stay at my place - she said she's a little scared from the earthquake. No answer - no surprise.

"No luck, Kitty-Cat. I'll just take you home?" I drawl, hiding my disappointment at cutting our time together short. "You should probably make sure everything's okay."

"Kay-kay… Can you stay with me?" Hopeful brown eyes beg me to stay.

"Maybe another night, Cat. I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight."

She looks as unhappy as I feel, but the words are out there and I can't take them back. You can never take it back: not without consequences. Beck took it back when he let me leave and it still hurts like hell. Admittedly, I'm not particularly good company right now. Cat wordlessly huddles into my mom's car since she got dropped off by her mom.

I take the path to her house, letting my mind wander to the days we would have to walk everywhere. I chuckle to myself: the last time we were in Beverly Hills, we tried to hitchhike back and ended up in Burbank instead so we had to take a bus. I surprise myself when I pull to a stop in her driveway. Locking eyes for a moment, a silent 'good night' is passed, our contact cut by the car's frame.

Fishing for my phone, I leave it on the passenger seat as I watch the front door close behind her. The drive to my mom's house isn't very long at all, but I get back without any word from my red-headed associate so nothing went terribly wrong. The engine idles in front of my destination and I open both my car and front doors with a heavy heart. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be alone. Sleep isn't going to come easy.

I laid in the dark, losing my mind to the flood of memories.

_I laugh at myself. _The golden couple is broken._ Through all the fighting and dysfunction, I really thought I had found my penguin. _Wow. That sounds so out of place. I shouldn't've let Cat show me_ Pon and Zi _comics_. Watching the clock masochistically, each tick of the hand a vitriolic reminder of the ten-count._

_My eyes close of their own accord, as I stare into the inside of my eyelids the pumping blood creates starbursts of color against the darkness both inside and out of me. The throbbing falls into rhythm with that traitorous timepiece. My heart falls out of rhythm with itself as the pounding suddenly sounds differently in my ears._

_It's only after it happens a second time that I realize it's at my door, not in my head. Navigating the black, I throw open my door. The acerbic non-greeting dies on my tongue as my senses are assaulted by the hall lights. They never get the chance to acclimate though, as a tiny body pushes me back and locks us back into safety._

_"This isn't healthy, Jadey." _

_I scowl at the nickname. _Only you get away with it._ "You're right, there's nothing healthy about being humiliated in front of all the people you almost consider friends by the boy you thought loved you and still let you leave. And what do you care? It's not like you came out after me either." That wasn't fair and we both knew it. I'm not entirely sure if that made sense either._

_"It wasn't my place. Far be if for me to open the door when you're expecting Beck."_

_"Don't say his name!" I screech. "I don't want to think about him!- it!" I turn away, knowing what look is painted on her face._

_She hugs me from behind, so gently I thought I was imagining it until I looked down. I reach and lace my fingers between hers, appreciating that she can be serious for me now at least. I need a friend._

_"He broke up with me." _That's never really happened before._ "I think we're really over this time."_

_"You don't need a guy in your life." Cat says this like it's the most simple thing in the world. Thanks_ dude, makes me feel better already. _"Remember when it was just you and me against the world? Here, is your stereo still hooked up?"_

_"Cat, I don't see how music's going to fix a broken heart right now."_

_"It's not about fixing, it's about bringing back memories and feelings. So is it set or not?"_

_I bark a sarcastic laugh, "I'm not having any problems remembering too much right now, but yes - it's always hooked up."_

_She skips over to my CD collection, using her phone as a light, finger trailing along each case until she found the one she wanted. "No, silly. Different memories."_

_I can't imagine what song she could put on that would make me feel better, but I give a soft smile anyway; at least one of us is trying. What kind of sappy Kelly Clarkson chiz is she going to play?_

_The familiar edge of a guitar is punctuated by drums as "Headstrong" plays. I forgot how much I loved this band in middle school. Now that the disk is in and playing, she flips through the tracks immediately. As soon as it starts playing she mumbles something to the effect of 'oops, too far' and clicks the button again._

_I wonder what she could be searching for. I smile despite myself. _What would everyone else think if they knew innocent little Cat Valentine preferred music like this?

_The track plays, I ease onto the bed in recognition. My often-flighty friend edges over and entwines our fingers again. I close my eyes as the lyrics hit home straight away._

_"A small confession," I sing to her, "I think I'm starting to lose it. I think I'm drifting away from the people I really need."_

_"A small reflection on when we were younger," her powerful voice jerks me back to reality. "We had it all figured out 'cause we had everything covered. Now we're older it's getting harder to see what this future will hold for us. What the _fuck_ are we going to be?"_

_Another thing I'd forgotten: how intense she gets when she has to scream out the lyrics. It's extra poignant since she wouldn't swear or say 'inappropriate' lines in music where she doesn't feel like it's warranted. The next lines are a plea, meant only for her ears._

_Her grip tightens and I flick my eyes to see hers have been squeezed shut. As if she couldn't stand to watch me say those words. She reaches toward me slowly, feeling for my face before cupping her hand around me and stroking away straying tears. _Don't cry Jadey_**.**__ My heart clenches at the thought, pushing out another fat droplet._

_She releases me. Her now-wet fingers grope for the lighter she knows is on my side table. She's been over entirely too many times. A candle is lit. She picks up the remote to my sound system._

_Nuzzling into my right side, the slight body shifts us until we sit with our backs against the headboard. I rest my head on hers, wondering what she'll change the song to now. Maybe "When All Is Said And Done" - that's a good song._

_Replacing the controller, she brings the dancing flame to us. Vanilla and red velvet wafts into the air._

_The same song starts over. My face ruffles against her hair as I glance over for confirmation. The glowing blue lights tell me it's the beginning of track 5._

_Lying there, Trapt fades into the background, becomes white noise to the soft murmured comfort falling from her mouth. Words are all but ignored as I watch the fire lick wax, colors swirling together in a maelstrom of color. I find myself again and look at Cat, watching me expectantly. I bite back a blush - I _don't_ blush. That would involve getting flustered and that is not something that happens to me often._

_"Thanks Cat. Really."_

_She pulls me into a hug, kissing me on the cheek. I look at her once more, before licking my index finger and pinching out the wick. Sick at the near-pleasure caused by the sudden shock of warmth._

_"I'm tired of playing with fire."_

_The smile given to me is sad, tinged with something else. Desperate almost. I wish I understood._

_She's so soft, it's like she's not even here. _"I'm just as lost as you."

_Cat was right._

I don't have any classes with her tomorrow, so I'll just have to check up on her at break.

I do end up getting falling asleep.

There's always been a reason she's my best friend.

AN:

So… The long _italicized _part is a flashback (shorter sections would be thoughts). Set immediately after André's Horrible Girl (and flashback is immediately after The Worst Couple).

This _was_ going to be a one-shot song-inspired fic ("Still Frame" by Trapt) but now I decided it's going to be a longer chapterfic. Also, Pon and Zi are super cute.

Hope you guys like it! So uh, please review and all that stuff. I'm gonna leave it rated at M (for that single swear word, of course…) so I can have creative license and not worry about taking it too far.


	2. Chapter 2 Where's Your Parents?

It's Thursday before lunch when I'm next approached by the girl. She wants me to drive her brother's car to some broad's house and I give a knee-jerk refusal. But then Vega grabs my arm and explains the situation when I try to walk away and I reconsider it; I do still miss my friend. Besides, there's only a handful of actresses whose death would make Cat that sad and we used to watch TV together when we were young. I want to be supportive. Y'know, without seeming like I'm being supportive or weak or any of the nubby stuff.

Only Tori seems skeptical, so I put on my best face and give her a Jade West creeptastic special. _Maybe a little overkill_, Vega chickens out and wants to bus it. _Then _she wants us to leave just after school. _Has she never seen LA traffic between 3 and 5? _Some people…

Everything in between is a blur of speech and stupidity as I find myself halfway between Hollywood and SD. I can't remember the last time I was _this_ physically miserable. The stupid hamster is distracting, Tori's boring _and _annoying, and my pants are soggy. I literally could not hate this any more. Vega dangles the option of escape ever-so-temptingly before us.

My friend's grief lances my bitterness though. "You guys promised we could go to Mona Patterson's house so I could light a candle and leave it by her front door." She's right. I couldn't take it back.

Spotting something, I calmly try to get Tori's attention without tipping off either girl. By the way she stiffens, Cat must see It too. Tori screams and Cat attaches to my side. There are no other options. Reluctant as I am to get back into the deathtrap, the hobo clown (I think he _winked_) gave us a much-needed push in our direction.

The crazy nightmare finally ends after I drop them both off at the Vega house and I'm at my dad's house defrosting in the shower. There's something about driving over 200 miles in pouring rain for 4 hours going 70 that's awfully _cold_. Makes me love it more when people pull off to the side of the road from the rain.

Now that I've successfully used all the hot water in the house, it's time to get out before I pass out. I'm wrapping the towel around me when my phone rings. I snatch up the red Pear product and enunciate, "What?"

"Jade? I did something bad." _Oh for the love of - _"Remember that candle I lit? It set Mona Patterson's house on fire."

"What?" I say again. Ringing in my ears, I'm feeling faint for a completely different reason as she continues. "Okay… okay. Cat calm down. There's nothing we can do now. I can take you home and spend the night if you want," I tell her, as much for her as for me. Oh god, I can't go down for _arson_. _Calm down, dammit. You can't break - you're on the phone! With _Cat_._

I can tell she's considering it, even if she says, "No no, I'm already in my pajama's at Tori's. We always end up sleeping in. Tori and I have our huge science project tomorrow and I have to be there, Jade. I _have to_." There's a pause in the rapid-fire conversation that draws me back in, "But…"

"Yeah, we can have a sleepover tomorrow night."

"Yay! Oh and Jade it's the weekend - it can be like it was back when we were kids!" I smile into the phone. _Why is it so easy with her?_

I write it off as a suspending relief. I had started to think that leaving things with Beck meant leaving things with all our friends, especially since Cat was off being evaluated the last time I broke up with him.

It used to upset him that I was usually more considerate to her, that I had a softer spot for my oldest friend. We can't help it; she's just been with me through more shit than he's had the opportunity to. Cat and I built up fortresses walls together, so now we're the only ones who can navigate each other without getting lost or triggering pitfalls. Eventually he assumed it's 'cause she's usually so sensitive to everyone else.

"Your house then, 'kay bye."

I feel like I shouldn't be smiling. It's not like we came together as friends 'cause our lives are so happy. I scoff in my room's telling silence.

_"Where's your parents?" asked the girl with the curly brown hair._

If I knew then, we might not be friends now.

God I have skunky parents. Still, when we were that little, it was nice to know neither she or I were alone in having less-than-attentive guardians who left their children waiting for hours.

_"My parents _are _just late. It's not important why and it's nothing new, so how's 'bout you mind your own business?"_

_Even at the tender age of 8, it was hard to hear the name _Jade West_ and not associate it with fear and quiet destruction. _I'm pretty proud of that actually.

_"Well, 'cause my parents are late too and it's the first day of school and nobody else is here anymore. I'm almost 8 so it's okay 'cause I'm not a baby anymore." It's amazing how fast she said all those words. I sort of wanna know how she did it - she's so little. _Didn't she need to stop and breathe? _What's more is she didn't just go away like all the other losers I was mean to today, so maybe she's okay._

_"What's your name, Baby Girl?"_

_Curly giggles, "I like that. My name is Cat with a 'C'."_

_"All right Cat with a C, I'm Jade West. You better remember that name 'cause it's gonna be big." I stand up all-of-a-sudden and cross my arms._

_"Big how?"_

_Her question surprised me a lot, so I stutter like dorky doll-boy at recess, "I don't know yet. Nobody's ever asked me that before." Now I'm a little sad._

_"That's okay Jade West, I'll remember your name 'cause we'll be friends whenever it happens. How's that sound?"_

_"Well I haven't had any friends asides from my parents' friends' kids. But they're all stupid nubs so I hate them all." I cross my arms again. "So okay. We can be friends."_

_"Yay!"_

_"So where are your parents, Cat?"_

Our lives are such disasters. The reminiscence alone takes up my brainwaves for the rest of the night. _So much for sleep._ I'd strongly consider ditching school today if I didn't already promise a sleepover. And I still have Nate's car to return, even if he really shouldn't ever drive it anymore.

The drive is uneventful, despite all the makings of a bad trip. Concrete slick with the recent rain, this orange trashcan has no power-steering so maneuvering it into place sucks. It's topless. So I while _can _lock it, that'd be a pointless waste of my life. At least I don't have to worry about anyone stealing it.

Most of my classes fly by due to my inattention. Apparently it's lunch again already, judging from my spot in line at the Grub Truck. I pay for my burrito and sit between Cat and André ("Hey-hey" and "'Sup" respectively), directly across from Vega (currently occupied with Sub-Vega). The friendless annoyance leaves and the world is brighter for it. _Or well, darker I guess since I don't like it the bright. _Why am I arguing with myself over my preferences? _Damn popular opinion and its mind-bending tendencies._

I shake my head before I get carried away; Vega's already staring at me.

"Jade are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay? What makes you think I'm not okay!" I look at my burrito - it's fine! "I'm fine!"

Her eyes widen comically, ducking behind the wave of an imaginary flag, "I was just wondering, you looked spacey."

"I was just thinking about your talentless sister," I deadpan.

"Jade! That's my sister you're talking about!" I shrug. _This is what I get for being honest._ There's a glaring redundancy in this conversation, but I'm not about to let her have the last word.

I roll my eyes. "Umm, duh! What part of 'your _talentless_ sister' makes you think I overlooked the fact she's 'your sister'?" She's fuming. I give her a cheeky grin.

"Leave her alone, Jade."

I twist to find the speaker, astoundingly not the girl I had been addressing. Cat weaves her hand into mine again, "Be nice. Trina's nice. Sometimes."

"Yeah! Like… okay I got nothing, she's not that nice." _Why fix something that ain't broke, why Tori? _I sigh and start eating my food.

The musician addresses all three of us, "Wow, did that just work?"

Cat and Tori exchange confused looks and my mouth is full. He looks down at my other hand, currently occupied with Cat's, in question.

Valentine pipes up, "Jade's less mean if you hold her hand." There's a semblance of truth in that, I suppose.

André doesn't bother to question Cat's logic, accustomed to its shoddy and unreasoned nature. _If only they knew what she really thought. _Her mind moves almost too fast mere mortals. He turns his attention to me, now that I'm done.

I offer an explanation at his query. "I'm less mean if you hold my hand." _I never said it was a _good _explanation. _He gives up all the same. He knows I treat Cat special.

A wave of silence passes over us as we face our meals once more. Getting up to throw out my trash, I catch Tori's eye as it bounces between Cat and myself. I tip my head slightly in curiosity when I read her expression as downright guilty. _What could sh- _Oh. _That._

Barely stopping myself from fidgeting, I hold her gaze 'til she breaks away completely to focus on her salad. Between the three of us, she's probably the one who'll crack first. But it's not an issue if we don't let it become one.

André posits another question: "Hey, where's Robbie at?"

Without looking up, Tori fields this one. "Oh he's doing a thing at a place with Beck." Her eyes widen again, but somehow I find no humor it in.

The bell rings, amiably shortening the tense quiet.

I take Cat's hand this time. She positively _beams_ at me. To acting we shall go.

The room is empty and the window's locked. _Unless there's no class today._ _Where the hell is Sikowitz?_ It's the last class of the day and I don't want to waste my time waiting for him to waste my time productively.

I check his Slap page, since he's really bad at keeping secrets.

**I got a new kitten (not to be confused with any students)! MOOD: Purr-ific.**

Oh _god_, just when I thought I could leave the lame puns to Vega.

I consider giving everyone detention again, but I'm in a sparing mood. I decreed class after 5 more minutes.

I grab my bag and my Cat, returning to The Rolling Chizbox.

"Let's see who's home today."

~~~BM~~~

AN:

I suppose it's true I can lower this to T-rated for now and I'll just change it when I think it necessary or somebody says something (whichever happens first, since I might not remember doing it).


	3. Chapter 3 God It's Friday

"It's Friday, Fri-"

"If you want to sing that stupid song, you have to get in the back." This is what happens when you leave the safety of SplashFace: you find YouTube and it's talentless singers. And I'm talkin' like '_worse than _Trina Vega level' talentless. "How is that even famous? It's completely moronic."

"Well what if you forget the day after Thursday or the day before Saturday?" my perky counterpart intones innocently.

"I'd buy a calendar." She giggles, like I was joking or something. "She sounds like a boy with a sinus infection, how can you listen to it?"

She clasps her hands together and brings them between her knees, "I can't." _Well that was unexpected._ "It's so darn catchy though. Those lyrics - if you can call them that - are like, totally the same through the whole thing and so it makes remembering them too easy and it's stuck in my head.

"Plus, it sort of makes me feel bad. Like it's supposed to be all relatable and stuff, but what about kids who live in a one-story house or live too far away to leave at 7:45 - I know I live like 20 minutes away from school if you take the highway 'cause it's so much farther if you don't take local and there's no way I'd ever make it in time."

"Deep breath, Valentine." I can't stop myself from laughing, "You are looking _way _too deeply at such a crappy song."

She leans forward in a fit of giggles. "Lemme guess, you hate it." I don't like to be predictable, but I hate lying. "Ooh! Can we go to the store and get ice cream!"

"Whatever… but only if you stop with that 'It's Friday' crap. It's too bad this portable junk yard doesn't have a working radio."

My passenger bounces up like only Cat-with-a-plan does, rifling through her purse for whatever. "Gotcha! Here." She stuffs an earbud into my right side, and were there anyone else on the road I'd scold her. She asks in her 1980's comedian voice, "Any requests from the audience?"

I turn to stare evenly at her, smirking when her eyes bug out as she stammers for me to watch the road. "Not crap."

"You're in a mood," Cat quips at me. "This." Some synthesized notes squeal into my ear, it's so familiar but I don't remember what it is… Until Cat's Britney Spears-voice hits me. _Oh my god. _"You're dangerous I'm loving it… With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride. You're toxic, I'm slipping under. With the taste of a poison paradi-"

"No Cat. Just no." I briefly flick my eyes to take in her smugly raised eyebrow. "And don't be a bitch," I mutter under my breath.

"Whaty?" I can almost hear her tongue poking out at me. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

She fiddles some more: _For all the times I dream, we are the way to be. Look at us b-_

I pull the white earpiece and chuck it at her. "NO!" _She straight up laughs!_ "How do you still have that song? What part of 'not crap' means 'aurally violate me with older crap'?"

"Hehe, that sounded dirty." _What happened to my Cat?_ "Hey, are we getting ice cream? You missed the store we usually go to."

I snipe at her. "Not at this rate we're not."

She pouts apologetically as her eyebrows make sad arcs, "Please Jadey! I'll play The Pretty Reckless, please?" I roll my eyes, exasperation consumes.

"I do like Taylor Momsen… We can get a pint at the plaza up ahead, they have a Jet Brew by the registers."

Parking in front of Halbert's Son's Market, we link arms to stay close enough together. It's moments like these that I appreciate Cat pretty much always wearing high heels. We get coffee first (_she_ wanted hot chocolate) and we're in the frozen foods aisle looking like idiots lost in a musical. I tap the cardboard around my cup to the drums, "And I don't know what I'm into, and I don't know what I've done to me… And as I watch you disappear into the ground-"

"My one mistake was that I never let you down, so I'll waste my time and I'll burn my mind."

We shout the next line together. "On Miss Nothing, Miss Everything."

She covers her mouth, and quickly looks around embarrassed. We seem to have drawn a small crowd. I snake my hand into her pocket to pull out the earphones jack. I subtly nod my head to the front of the store, _let's go. _She quickly grabs a thing of chocolate chip and we hurry out the store.

When we get back to the car, we crack up at the impromptu show we accidentally put on. Plugging back in, we finish the song.

Acerbic lyrics soothing me, I tune into the chorus when Cat's pop-oriented vocals pick up a rock affect for just ten words, "My one mistake was that I couldn't let you down."

We fake playing drums spastically against the car. I (_accidentally?_) slam on the horn at the ending chords and Cat howls with amusement.

"Omigosh Jade, _stop_. I can't take it."

"That's not what you said last night." I throw her a wink for good measure.

Her reaction is to titter nervously, but I guess I should not have expected anything else at the mention of such risqué subjects. "Let's get back to my place before it all melts."

The request was a reasonable one; I start the car and grab my classmate's hand. Our soundtrack for this last leg of the journey is Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle" and the highway whipping through my hair makes me feel lighter than I have in a damn long time.

We do our stupid car dance before I let the "whoo!" out into the wind and throw her hand up. Shimmying in my seat to the guitar solo, I manhandle hurtling steel down the sharp exit, speeding through to the suburb. The staggered STOP signs have me zigzagging foolhardily along. Screeching to a halt, I have to admit I love the brakes on this monster. I throw it into park as the song ends. Cat kindly spares me the façade of admonition.

It's unlocked and it makes me wonder if anyone I know locks their houses during the day. _Well, Beck did, but even _I _can break that lock._ Cat calls for anyone, but the residence is suspiciously quiet. Handing me the ice cream, she leaves her shoes by the door and stalks up the stairs.

Making myself useful, I grab spoons from the kitchen and scan the shelf's movie titles. Picking a classic Pixar film, I settle on the couch to await the status report.

Chemically-stained hair flounces into view as she skips the last few steps to land softly in the plush carpeting. I grin - my mom's place has hardwood floors and she tried that once: her socks slipped and she almost smashed her head open on the wall. _Instead she falls headfirst into me, god-fuck that hurt._

"Big Brother's asleep," she rolls her eyes dramatically. In the pause we share a secret smile at that little irony. "So we stay down here. What're we watching?"

"Toy Story." I hand her a spoon, sticking mine in my mouth to pop the top off the carton.

"I love Tory Story!" Vigorously attacking the frozen dessert, "Mmm, I _love_ Sven & Larry's."

I eye her warily; she feeds the disk in. "I hate the fact that I like that you love everything."

She bounces her shoulders suggestively, "We're just gonna have to find more things for you to love."

"Right 'cause that worked so well last time I loved," I sass back. Even if I don't mean it.

Sure it still aches in that lonely-empty way, and sure I wish it was a pain I liked more, but every step of that relationship was worth it. I was open and honest with Beck and he was open and honest with me (when he wasn't making me jealous on purpose, the sick jerk). No regrets, it's just going to suck for a while - plain an' simple.

I tell myself it was worth it.

Doggammit I miss him. I can't even enjoy the movie. I hate being so stereotypical, but I could really get into that ice cream now…

Taking some cleansing breaths, I do that meditation thing: clear my mind and all that janked tripe. I stare sightlessly at the moving-picture box, mechanically shoveling in the cold.

"-ning to me? Hello!" Bronze hues swipe through my vision; I blink. "Jade?"

"What?" I answer, a little dazed.

Her bottom lip juts out. "We're supposed to be making us _both _feel better. I can't feel good if you're so sad."

I bristle instinctively. "I'm not sad."

"You're crying into the ice cream…" Oh. _So I am._ "So if your brain is being too stubborn to be sad, least your eyes are always telling me the truth. Windows to the soul, you know."

When I try to smile at her, she tries a different tack. "Love is bigger than romance. It's an experience as much as it's a feeling, it changes over time and it's not the same for everything. Like the way I love red velvet cupcakes is different from the way I love my brother. Or the way I love Tori and Beck and Robbie and André is different from the way I love you."

Bursting with sincerity, she jumps at me with a hug.

I don't push her away like I did earlier in the week. I cry in earnest for the first time since it happened, accepting the comfort of my oldest and best friend. My heart is unhinged and finishing its break. Sobs wrack my body as the weight settles in my chest, crushing my lungs faster than they can draw in air.

Watching my nails digging crescents into her shoulder, I ball my other fist in her shirt to rest between shoulder blades. I bite my lip to relieve some of the pain, choking out more tears into her hair as blood fills my mouth.

The slighter girl squeaks out a small protest in pain, but doesn't pull away. _The best things hurt just a little bit, right?_ Sliding between my sweatshirt and my tank top, her hand seeping warmth along my lower back as it rubs circles. Whispering reassurances into my neck.

I sigh and relinquish my hold. "If you get what you give, then I must've done something right."

"Nope, I've just done a lot of wrong in a past life," she adds with impertinence.

I hesitate, "Thanks for being here with me, Cat."

Cat smirks. The bubbly vocalist understood. "It's okay, you don't have to say it.

"I know you love me too, Jadey."

"How do you love me?" I ask, recalling the way she phrased it now that I'm calmer. _Different. Different how?_ "Like what do you mean you don't love us all the same way?"

She blushes so hot I can almost feel it a foot away. There's a noticeable measure of muteness indicating exactly how feverishly she's thinking about her answer.

Her words are firm, but so soft I have to strain to not miss what she's been working on.

"I meant that you're my best friend," she starts slowly. "You're special and that in itself's part of what I love about you."

My smile is silly and uncontrollable, "If anyone saw the you I see, I don't even know how they'd react to know how wrong they are about you."

"If anyone else got to see the you I see, they'd fall head-over-heels for you." She claps her hands together once, loudly - thus ending our moment of solemnness before it got too sappy, "It's the weekend, let's get pizza!"

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Kudos to anyone who recognizes all the music without looking it up (disclaimer: not all songs are made equally). Tell me if you did! Also, I won't be sure whether I love you or not…

Totally spoofed Albertson's and Ben & Jerry's for anyone who's curious.

Right, so tell me everything I'm doing wrong and I'll try to not be so wrong in the future.


	4. Chapter 4 To Set Me Free

Nate woke up about the same time the pizza guy got to us (and by 'us'I mean Cat and I sat next door and waited until they got there - man, was _that _an unhappy driver) so neither of us worried about him getting upset his food was cold. He came downstairs and we watched old videos of _All That_ on the VCR/DVD player. It's a wonder how such ancient technology still works.

After the last skit I take it as my cue to engage her brother in finding something else to watch when Cat announces, "It's time for dessert!" _It's weird_: when we were all just kids he was totally able to work the VCR into recording, but he never used more than like a third of the hours available on the tapes. Nate simply grabs the closest source of visual entertain to refocus on compulsively shuffling cards; I argue with him to buy his sister some more time.

After what feels like a short forever, she skips back over balancing three bowls of ice cream. His Funky Nut Blast is laced with what appears to be raw dough chunks. I give in to the brunet's choice, shooting Cat a curious glance as we colonize her couch.

Comfortably positioned, I find myself loosely sandwiched by the siblings. It's okay for Cat 'cause I'm used to it - she's my best friend. _But…_ Meh, I guess it's okay for Nate since he's him and I'm used to (read: unfazed by) his quirky. So really I think nothing of it, letting the frosty treat sooth the rawness of my mouth.

Cupping a hand over my ear, "He's been super into cookie dough lately, so I've just been stuffing his Zyprexa in that. Which _totally_ works for me since it's easier than smashing and mixing."

I cock my head at the fridge brilliance when she coos at her older brother, "How's that chocolate chip treating you?" I chuckle at the audacity of the flagrant wink she throws my way.

Pulling his head out of the bowl, he smiles like the child everybody thinks Cat is. We smile back encouragingly 'til he vehemently offers us a dough ball. I tell him we ate all our pieces and that those are all his, and that it'd be _unfair_ for us to have anymore. I wasn't willing to play Russian Roulette like that and I didn't think Cat would appreciate it either if she got another vase to the skull.

Now that our resident nut job has been successfully drugged, the wait begins. Putting in _Good Burger: The Movie_, we spend more time watching him than the screen, mindful of any indication of drowsiness or sedation. Kenan's character just got Ed to sign the contract when I notice our subject's eyes glaze over.

I push Cat into action, I flank his other side; she pauses the movie and takes what he's fiddling with. We gradually coerce him to his room. Securely tucked into bed, we sigh relief: we won't have to deal with him again until tomorrow.

"Y'know, if his shuffling tic was reliable, we'd never need to do it again," the tired girl breathes lightly. "Wanna play rummy?"

Knowing how self-conscious she gets nearly every time I see him, I pull the deck away from her. "I adore Nathan. I've known him for almost as long as I've known you - before all the crazy kicked in." Shy honey browns meet my teal, I offer her a brave quirk of my lips. "I've long accepted how he is. You don't have to keep trying to hide him from me."

She scowls darkly - _that's not a pretty face_ - and looks away. "Maybe so, but I don't want to have to accept anything! It's not fair Jade." My smile turns sad at this bit of broken record conversation. "I'm supposed to be the child. I'm supposed to be the coddled, younger sibling."

"I know, Kit. I do." I drag a hand through my hair, "But it's not like wishing it away is gonna work. You're not naïve enough to even act like you believe that."

Setting the cards on the ground, I pull the younger girl in and cradle her to the monotonous drone of the Valentines' digital clock. I close my eyes and have no idea how long we stay that way.

I'm damn near jolted out of my skin: a loud bang disturbing my repose. _I'm blind._

I blink a few times to the point my eyesight returns. It's almost lost again as my senses are flooded with an angry brightness. _We fell asleep. _Her parents are home.

I none-too-gently shake Cat surreptitiously, trying not to draw attention from the tired-looking elders. "Mmm? Mom, Dad. You're home." I sigh inwardly, _thank you, let's state the obvious. _The Cap'n struggles a bit to straighten up.

As if they just realized we exist, each gestures at us without looking. A mid-range woman's timbre acknowledges, "Hi Honey, we were just going to head up to bed. Long day, you understand. Did Nathanael cause any trouble today?"

Feeling her deflate against me, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "No, he was quiet all day. Anything exciting at work?"

This time her mustachioed father spoke, "Nothing special. Same ole stuff, went to work, did stuff, spilled coffee, picked up your mom, and now we're here. Just people can be so aggravating. They talk entirely too much."

She waves her good-bye as the duo trudges up the stairs hand-in-hand. I am not entirely sure if they know I'm here.

Considering how dysfunctional my parents were - _are_ - with their significant others, it's surreal to watch how well Cat's parents get along. _Too well to be fully-competent parents, maybe, in their own way. _But who am I to judge?

A modest gust of air underscores the slam of their bedroom door. The girl who lives here jumps up entirely and pulls me outside the house. We don't lock it, though we should since it's dark.

"Cat, maybe you should put shoes on." I look up from the ground and she's tearing across the street blindly. _Gammit, Cat. _I give chase, but that scrawny chick is _fast_. I'm almost caught up when we reach our destination._ Of _course_ she completely stops running._ My options: plow her over; pitch myself off-course.

She turns around to face me. Space separating our positions closing in, I can't make up my mind.

So I plow her over while pitching myself off-course.

Colliding neatly into the shorter girl, I adroitly sweep her body off the ground and twist my own to the extent we land on our sides in the messy grass just short of the plastic rim filled with wood chips. Grinning like mad, there seriously must be something wrong with us. Disengaging from one another, Cat gives her clothes a cursory sweep and skips into the pen; I follow suit. No skipping.

I watch her clambering over the play structure the way an indulgent parent might, utter awe of her ability to let go and yield to the simple, juvenile pleasures of laughing out loud. _Who am _I _to talk? I'm right the hell here with her._ I kick off into the air as soon as my butt touches the rubber strap. I close my eyes to bask in the crisp night air, silence encumbered only by footsteps and squeaky chains.

Falling back, a pressure to my shoulders catches me off guard. My swing jiggles unevenly, I writhe for a fading glimpse of white teeth and red. I fly higher and higher and I'm clamping my eyes shut to the world spinning around us.

Without warning, I startle a cry from Cat when I let go at the apex of my arc. I don't quite stick my landing, soggy bark sliding from beneath my feet. She's screaming my name in approach.

"Oh my _god_, Jade - don't do that! You scared the pee out of me." I look at her pointedly. "Not _literally_. But you know what I mean."

Sitting up at the edge of the box, I allow myself to drop out back to the grass. Cat stands and I watch her crumple to the ground just left of me. I'd think nothing of it were it not for the sharp "Ow!"

"What up with the whining?" I drawl out.

Her brows furrowed in concentration, "I stepped on something sharp."

"What?" My blood runs cold for a moment. _What the chiz is sharp in a playground! _"Let me see."

Rocking onto her right side, a vermillion-nailed foot swings to my face. _It's not bleeding._ I exhale, obviously she didn't break skin. "Looks okay… What the…?" I trace my index finger across an indentation on the sole, gripping firmly when she starts to thrash. "Seriously, stop. Don't make me do this the hard way."

Not that she listens. My inner monologue damns her tenacity. I roll her toward me onto her stomach, rotating on a knee to straddle her lower back - I use my superior mass to weigh her down. I catch her kicking feet, hugging toned calves to force them still. I scoot forward until I'm sitting on the backs of her thighs.

"_Jadey_, don't tickle me…" and she sounds so pathetically adorable I torn in whether I should listen. _Again: not that she listens. _I obligingly use more pressure examine the bottom of her foot. "It's bad isn't it?"

It's hard to see in the dim light of stars and clouds, so I reach behind me to steal her phone, open a new message, and press the whitened screen to the site. It's a rectangular dent with two adjacent circles inside. _A block._ I squint as I see the dark purple corner. "Jade?"

"There's gonna be a pretty bruise but it's no big deal," I reply amiably, returning the device to her back pocket. I stand with a groan. "Wanna go home and ice that chiz?"

"Nah, I don't think we'll need ice. Let's go back though. I don't wanna play anymore if I have to be careful of it."

I pull her vertical. She makes a face. I cross my arms and stare at her impatiently. _What? _slathered on my features.

"Carry me…!" Favoring her left side, she moans piteously. "_Please?_"

I roll my eyes. _She _knows _I hate it when she talks like that. _She splits my monosyllabic name in two. And again.

At the third utterance I snap, "Fine!" I lean forward to brace for the extra weight. "Just stop baby-talking! I _hate _that."

"I know," the little imp returns with a jump. "Thanks Jadey. Love you."

"You too, Kitty-Cat."

She snuggles into the crook of my neck. I shake my head briskly to clear my face of our hair and begin the short trek home. We've gone almost two blocks before she starts humming in my ear, "When they smash my heart into smithereens: be a bright red rose come bursting the concrete. Be a cartoon heart…"

Putting a name to the song, I smile. Singing the next line to her, "Light a fire - without a spark, light a fire - flame in my heart. We'll run wild… We'll be glowing in the dark."

Instead of continuing, Cat presses her lips to the same crook she so recently nestled into. I'm aflame with a rare blush I hope she doesn't notice, but she just lays her cheek in that spot.

Tilting forward, I jog the last two blocks, carrying my closest friend on piggyback. It's not like anyone's here to see us. Dropping her arms from around my neck, she rears up somewhat and holds her arms out like the wings of a jet plane. Touching down in front of the split-level ranch house, I spin myself around on a heel - eliciting squeals from my passenger.

Through her giggles, she manages a: "Jade, stop! I'm gonna wazz." _Chiz, I almost dropped her._ I _do_ stop and fumble into the house.

In consideration of the rest of the occupants in bed, the redhead hobbles to the nearest bathroom. When she comes out, (_"Hey, does this feel wet to you?"_) I pretend to be checking my hoodie. She swats me, unamused and flustered.

We revel in the unwonted serenity of her room. I can ignore that it's pink - in the darkness it melts into a blood red. Eventually it ends with a hushed confession. "I missed this."

"What?"

"You. Me. This calm. Freedom. We're artists, but there's only so much we can act through."

"Me too… It's lonely though, that way. On stage and completely separate from everyone else. It's nice to just forget our problems for a little while, but it's never real. You're always alone in the end."

"And the rest of the gang is cool and nice and all, but they aren't you. I mean, by now it's hard to imagine not having even one of them in our lives, but it's not the same."

"Yeah. Like, I couldn't act like this around them. They'd freak. They wouldn't understand."

We understand each other perfectly at this exact moment, at least all the ways that mattered right now. Quietude returns.

_Quiet-Cat_ and _Quiet-Jade_: they might as well just not exist. As Cat and I encounter these strangers, we become unstuck in time; we fall away from ourselves and watch from afar.

"I can't imagine _existing_ without you, Cat," I whisper - afraid to unsettle the blanket of peace enshrouding us from the rest of the world. "I'd disappear."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jade. _I can't_. You make me _me._" Tangling long fingers together against mine, "Trust me when I tell you I'm here to stay.

"We're gonna be stars together. I promise."

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Title and lyrics from "Charlie Brown" by Coldplay


	5. Chapter 5 Monday Morning

Today I wake up in Cat's bed. It's a cruel irony that the source of my constancy is also the venue of her instability. I try not to think on it too hard.

I rub my eyes blearily in the short interlude before the alarm (that must've gone off to wake me) goes off again. I snicker at how content I feel, sitting up in the pink- and powder-blue covers dressed in such dark blue.

Last night she decided to record a video for The Slap, slipping into our flat characters because we (meaning her) couldn't sleep. I was still cranky and kind of mean to Cat. So we're going to have to edit it.

Ke$ha plays loudly. Cat groans and attacks the phone. _Guess she doesn't feel like P. Diddy either. _I push her out of the bed when she goes to snuggle into the blankets again.

I laugh silently, sadistically, when my name is preceded by a resounding _thump_.

"Good morning to you too, Cat." She groans again but otherwise gives no sign of life. I shiver; she took all the blankets with her. "C'mon Kit, we have to get up now if we're gonna make the bus."

"No," but it's so muffled it might've been yet another groan. Peering over the side, she's lying facedown on the carpets - clutching a pillow for dear life. I pelt her with the dense body of Mr. Porkstache. The only reaction this elicits is a slight turn in her neck that exposes half of her face to me. "Why do we have to take the bus again?"

"Because your parents are already gone and I don't have a car." _We're getting nowhere._ I roll out of the bed now, finding spare clothes. "There's _no_ way I'm taking that orange obscenity again. I'm pretty sure ropes don't pass for seat belts and I don't want the ticket."

Leaving to occupy the bathroom, I change into a black top with erratic white accents and black pants, fully intending to drag her limp body down each step and out the door if I finish dressing first. Lucky for her, the chaotic scramble to join the living is audible even a wall away. _Makes what I have to do easier. _I shrug and rough up the toothpaste rather than worry.

I come in to the Italian girl arranging an outfit of the flowery blue persuasion and, well, everything goes with black pants. _Oh well excep-_ I shudder, discontinuing the thought.

"How are you this awake?" I pull my frothing toothbrush from my face to scrap together the most incredulous look I can manage, considering the white foam threatening my hand. "Right, I'll just talk to you after we've pumped caffeine to your veins." She waves her hand dismissively.

Replacing the minty brush, I wag my head in frustration and roll my eyes. Exhaling, I reappear in front of the sink and finish my morning routine. "If you take any longer, don't think I won't make you brush your teeth on the bus! Cat?"

_What the chiz, woman?_ My left hand moves to rub the bridge of my nose: she's got a mouthful of bobby pins - fixing her hair. I roar, "Let's go! There are mirrors at school and we'll get there early enough."

"Fine, get your underpants untwisted and give me 5 minutes. I swear." I can hear the breaking patience. _What is _she _getting impatient over? _I'm gonna have an aneurysm, _I swear_.

I lace my boots on the bottom step. The sound of thunder: I move from to the banister as the hasty teenager brushes past me. Catching herself at the wall, she faces me with a flourish. _Am I suppose to score this out of 10 now? _Rolling my eyes, I give a golf clap for which I get an ostentatious curtsy.

"Got your keys? Good." Exiting, I take long strides to the bus stop by our old elementary school. "Flats! It's like 5 blocks and we have like 5 minutes."

I don't run if I can help it, so she'll just have to catch up. Sure enough, I'm just down the block when the flash of red is eye-level and leaving. _And she was sleepy. _I shake my head at the sight: she seems to realize I'm not giving chase.

We convey our (_very separate_) opinions on running the rest of the way to the bus stop, but a look at the time is enticing enough to jog. Arriving at the corner of our playing grounds, I spot the intercity shuttle. 6:52 - punctual like only early morning schedules ever are.

In the 20 minutes it takes to reach our stop, Cat and I stretch out on different areas of the mostly-empty car with tired, silly smiles over the immaturity of our antics. _We really should be too old for this, I think_, pulling the bell.

Jumping off the bus, "How are you this awake?" she asks again even though she said it'd wait.

"Whose idea was it to make a video at 3 AM?" I grunt back. "I hate waking up earlier than I have to."

"That's the time The Funny Nugget Show is on!" she chirps. _What the h-_ _Oh that thing she does with Vega. _A twinge of unreasoned jealously resonates; I pick up the pace from 'languid' to 'leisurely' in attempt to run from the thought. "Hey since we're here so early, can we get something to eat with our coffee?"

At the mention of food my stomach speaks for itself. She giggles and I don't even look at her. Shortly after we're on campus and I'm pounding on side of The Grub Truck until the owner's grouchy "What Buddy? Can't you see I'm sleeping?" can be heard.

"Festus, can we _please,_" my choking on the word only adding to its intensity, "get some food? And coffee?"

He seems to perk up at my voice. "Jade West," mispronouncing _West_ like Patrick Star would. "Only you being so crabby-demanding so early. For you I do this." _It's probably 'cause I was the only one who tipped him when he had that jar. _Sure, service isn't great and quality isn't spectacular, but I know he knows there's not a lot of other options for food. I call it _self-preservation_ to not incense the dude I get a third of all my food from into screwing with me.

"Thanks Festus," a faint quirk of my lip can be heard. I hate that. "You got a burrito in there? Oh, and ravioli?" I add at the tug on my sleeve.

He mutters an affirmation with our coffee and I uncrinkle a ten and two singles before trading with him. A black impulse has me push another one-dollar bill to him. The Yerbanian eyes my smirk warily, but accepts. The window slams shut and he disappears.

_Mmm._ A sip of the scalding liquid fills a void in me, immediately followed by a sharp pang on loneliness. _Beck knew how I liked my coffee_. I close my eyes and take another mouthful to ease the pain.

I eat in silence, my eyes never straying far from my hands and their contents. My seldom-still companion sitting across the table of foodstuffs.

"I swear, you always get a burrito. Or salad." Cat's mumbling over her pasta, staring into her own cup of dark caffeine.

"It's safe." I take a bite to buy some time. "I'm cool with risks and all, but I prefer them of the external variety. Twirling blades and swinging balls of doom: fine. Food poisoning and my face in the toilet bowl: not my happy place.

"I mean, burritos are practically leftovers incarnate and salads are raw vegetables. Not a lotta room for error."

"Raviolis are like little pillows with sauce." I know Cat, I know. "You know, you wouldn't expect Grub coffee to be as good as it is. Like, when you consider…"

Eyes roaming the table, she trails off and I bite back a grin. _Leave it to you to hit the nail on the head, and then be too nice to say it._ I nod complacently.

We continue the silence, comfortably lounging in each other's company for probably another quarter-hour before the morning chill affects us through the heat of our bellies. That's when we relocate to Sikowitz's little stage. Right, I _know _I don't have class there until way later in the day, but it's not like I'm gonna go to history to sit in those ganky desk-chairs when there's a perfectly cozy carpet to lay on.

There's a crash of breaking glass that breaks my trance. I can practically feel the whiplash from searching for the source: Sikowitz. _He must've not noticed the window was closed._

Cat is amusingly confused, curling further into my body. _Wait, what?_ I quickly assess our relative placement.

I have my left arm wrapped around a petite white girl, my armpit is pretty much resting on her shoulder while _she_ lays on her side - head tucked snugly into the web of muscle between my breast and shoulder. Why do we keep falling asleep all cuddled up, and then woken up by some loud adult?

"Jade! Shouldn't you be in class?" the erratic man greets. _Like nothing is weird about this _at all. This is your life, Jade West.

I gingerly polish my eyes to avoid smearing my makeup, "Why? You just got here, didn't you? Nobody's here yet."

"Ah, and they won't be, not for another…" looking hard at the coconut that seems to have just materialized in his hand, "29 minutes. I don't have a first hour this semester."

Connecting the dots faster than my sleep-addled mind does, my tanner complement jumps up and exclaims, "Jade, we missed half of US History!"

Rising to my feet with a groan, I tell her, "Yonders isn't gonna be sunshine and butterflies when we walk in without an excuse."

"No sunshine _or _butterflies? My life is the worst!" She says it so dramatically, it's hard to believe she means anything. Then a smirk throws me off guard.

With a waggle of her eyebrows, we both turn to look at our acting teacher. I look angry and intimidating as per usual, but she's the good cop to my bad. "Good Gandhi, that's not fair…

"Alright, you're thespians, so drive-by acting challenge! Cat - you're a teenage girl finding your first love: Mrs. Yonders herself. Jade - you'll be acting as a 7-year old boy who just learned there's no Santa Claus. Now the scene is that you're both late to the same class, but you can't tell anyone why you're actually late. _If _you two sell the improv through to the end of first period, I'll vouch for your tardiness. Now begone my little sardines!"

Skittering down the hall and into the classroom, I hold my breath until I'm red in the face. Mrs. Yonders glares daggers at us when I open the door. "Ladies, nice of you to jo-"

"No! You're lying!" She rears as if bitten, fearfully regarding me as if I've lost my mind. Inside I rejoice at the shock on her face. For both our sakes, I tone it down. "He _is _real…"

Cat steps in now, reaching her hands up to my shoulders and pressing me gently toward my seat. "Behave," she starts sharply, "you're being a brat for _Mrs. Yonders _here."

I almost choke at the syrupy way Cat said our instructor's name. Staying in character, I pout my lip forward and lower my head to watch her lower hers - just not in my direction. Wide brown eyes bore in on the older woman, batting lashes rapidly.

I cross my arms defiantly; she twirls her hair and giggles. Yonders clears her throat, "Do you have any explanation for your being late?"

There is a classroom full of peers awaiting my answer. Since we aren't allowed to answer her honestly, I close my eyes and cover my ears shouting, "Liar liar pants on fire!" until Cat puts her hand over my mouth. Without my own noise, I hear my partner in crime apologize profusely for my behavior, saying something about immaturity and youth. About how she's _so glad to be more grown up_.

I gag melodramatically and lick her hand. Jerking it away with a squeal, I give out a "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her? Then you can lie to me together."

Cat's got a comeback but never gets the chance. "Enough! It's clear that you girls are doing something, so I'll just stop asking and maybe we can get on with class. All right?"

I roll my eyes but agree. Cat sighs dreamily and in such a tone replies, "As you wish." Which is only met with a new wave of giggles across the room.

Now that we've made our history teacher thoroughly wazzed, we innocently settle into our work, soaking up what she has to say for the last 10 or 20 minutes.

The bell rings: Cat and I bolt for our next classes (math and writing), not wanting to stay behind and explain anything. I sit in the back corner, arriving far before the end of the passing period. The whole hour is spent with my head leaning on the the sliver of wall between windows, high on stagecraft.

_Did I say the rest of the hour?_ I mean the rest of the day until lunch. During which I sat more or less across from Beck awkwardly, doing my damnedest to pretend I'm in Wisconsin and he's in Canada. Oh but sweet chiz, that would make him even closer than if he were just in Canada and I was here - where I don't want to be!

_Oww!_ I thought too hard and now I've gone and bit myself. _Aww and I wasn't even paying attention. _Traces of blood flavor my mouth, I dab my tongue on the fresh wound, savoring each sense of the piquant sore.

Business as usual as Robbie gripes about some girl snubbing him, Rex rubbing it in. The screechbox-sister saying he probably deserved it. Vega whining about whatever. André's got a gig and is asking B- _Beck_ to help him with the guitar part so he can stay on the keyboard.

The tanned boy moves, his dazzling smile faltering almost imperceptibly when our eyes lock. My heart tightens and I feel my face become stricken momentarily in that utter loss of control. He briskly snaps his scrutiny elsewhere and the awkwardness that descends on our table is deafening.

I'm saved from bailing by Sinjin of all people. Hovering over my shoulder like the weirdo he is, his face appears too close to mine to speak: "I hear you don't have a boyfriend now."

My eyes flick shut, the panic recedes. Building an authoritative tone, I say, "Go." There is a collective sigh of relief when his sneakers squeal across the ground.

"Jade, he did it again," Tori's voice aggravates, "he was just being nice."

"He was being creepy." I stab a leaf. "Don't blame his self-control problems on me."

"But what about _your_ self-control problems?" I open my eyes now, staring her down. She gives and squeaks out in the same questioning tone she acquires when she's unsure of what to say, "Err, _what_ problems?"

My eyelids flutter in irritation. The end of break is signaled; I rise immediately, somewhat anxious to get away, to throw out my mostly-uneaten meal.

I'm almost home free, _only one more _real _class_.

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Hey readers… sorry for that wait, it's been Spring Break and I've been otherwise occupied. But it's okay now - I'm back. (Also, I think I'm disillusioned from my lack of feedback on my last story. le sigh…) I guess this is mostly filler, but I'll call it development. Please bear with me? And review? (I imagined hiking my tone a pitch to ask the second question if that's anything to your empathy.)

I'll see if I can't have the next chapter up by Monday.


	6. Chapter 6  Caught Beneath The Landslide

"I _hate_ her!" I'm fuming. _How _can he do this to us! "I _knew_ he wasn't just so cool to get us off the hook like that."

"Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?" I whip around to glare. "No seriously, slow down. You're tall and it's a long walk."

This perfectly rational line of thought does in fact calm me. I give a surly apology, then: "Sikowitz pairing me with Vega - he totally did it on purpose! If we just skipped the rest of first period, there wouldn't be this mess."

Her skipping stops, so I have to stop too. _What now?_ Crap. She thinks I blame her, with bowed brows over her huge sad eyes and deep-set frown. Taking a step back, I grab her hand and cross our fingers. My twitch of a smile becomes the catalyst to her grin.

"You don't hate her… just sometimes you don't like her very much." My arm swings up and down in cadence with her bouncy gait, "You don't need me to tell you Jade: you're friends and it's fine if you never want to admit it. Keeping it secret doesn't make it less true."

"Cat… Shut up." Her unfaltering mood causes mine to waver, still she humors me. Only the white noise of heavy traffic scores the remaining miles of our journey.

My feet take control, steadily plodding on blind. Mind wrapping around a certain hole in my life, a gap the shape of Beck Oliver - the boy who's going to be my son for the newest slice of hell in the form of a school production. How did my life get to this? _We were steady. How should I have known that such a little _non_-secret would ruin my life?_ How was I s-

_And _now_ I'm on my butt. _A streak of yellow flies across my periphery. Their light was red. I could've died. _Jackass._ Winded but healthy, I offer a grateful, "Thanks, Cat." She chirps something perky, but I've already refocused my brain to berate my actions as we fall back in step with one another.

_Beck._

He's affecting me this much. It's insane. I must be.

Reaching the house, I unlock the lonely car in the wide driveway to take Cat home. I hand her the cord to plug her mp3 player in and start the car. It's a medley of music from, like, the '80's. "Train In Vain". "Just Like Heaven". "Add It Up". I blink the tears away, steeling myself since I doubt she's trying to make me feel like crap intentionally. I _suggest_ more recent music. Somehow, "Champagne Supernova" fell into that category.

Between the words and the waves, I wonder if she really _is_ doing this on purpose. It doesn't matter, our ride ends halfway through the instrumental break and she disconnects her PearPod. I mentally follow her in, then I take a hairpin turn in the street to double back to my (dad's) house.

Driving is the same blotting of time as before, a heavy misery draping itself around my collar the closer I get to where I'm going. _Perfect. _I park alongside the shiny black car in front. I stomp off to my room in the sterile modern-colonial. Bolting the door behind me as I enter, I take off my boots and throw myself on the bed.

A mild, booming voice brings me back from my skull to demand if I'll be at dinner tonight. After declining, I'm told he's going for Mediterranean with 'my mother' and won't be back until late. He doesn't need an answer; I don't offer one.

Beginning an English paper to distract the self, I end up doing a script for my screenwriting class anyway. It's about a girl who fakes insanity to escape her problems, but the institution refuses to release her when she tries to leave.

It's hours later and the sun is down when I save a very rough copy. I stand, stretching the kinks from my spine, and head to the kitchen for fuel.

Pouring a mug of ever-present coffee, the search begins. Opening the fridge: nothing. The shelves: bare. I retreat to my room with a groan, violating my stash of reserve food. They always eat out. _Fat Cakes last forever._ This will tide me over for the night. Maybe they'll have leftovers, though I'm not holding my breath.

I light a few candles before shutting my laptop, watching the pendulum click away. It's enough to drive a soul mad.

The roar of an overzealous engine shatters the contented drone. _They've been gone for hours. _I don't understand how I didn't notice that before. Walls shake and the carpet does nothing to nullify the crashing footfalls lumbering up stairs. I spare another glance at my timepiece. 11:57. That explains enough - they've gone out for drinks.

_They must have had a lot if they're this quiet about it._ My eyes roll at myself, unsure if that sarcasm was necessary in consideration of reality. _Alky dipwads_. Ugh, the dipwads have me thinking words I hate. Redo. _Alcoholic skunkbags._

Daddy Dearest has to be at work in 7 hours (no wonder he's always getting fired - the only reason he has such a nice house is his stupid young wife is _so_ stupid she thinks he didn't marry her for the money). And The Mother should probably be out of the house before I am, so there is supposedly no time I'd see either of them.

I can't believe I have to spend the whole month here in this skunky joint. I'm vaguely thankful my mom didn't decide to dump me here for December at least (_gag me with a spoon_), but it's not like she wouldn't have if it worked out that way with Silvester's father. This month will be hell.

This _week _will be hell especially: playing Tori's loving wife? I don't even need the spoon to gag. Why couldn't I just be Carter, or - _whatever, they're identical twins_ - Tommy? Hold it. I mother _twins_? I _hate _twins.

I lay down and pull the pillow over my head to sleep it off. I don't even care if my room burns down.

Whenever I wake up doesn't matter, the process didn't magically repeat itself. In spite of that the days go on, predictably agonizing and rising on the awkward scale between the tension of me-and-Beck and the contempt of me-and-Vega. That chick is _all _kinds of dead weight.

Cat's been busy with Robbie singing songs every day. She even missed rehearsal on Thursday - we've always tried to make each other's rehearsals, and it helps we're usually in the same things. Heading to Nozu to meet Sikowitz, I can't help but wonder what stupid thing he's got planned to make us pretend to like each other.

In denial ("What date?"), I try to act that he didn't just say what he did. I've barely sat down when I'm on my feet to leave. If I wasn't so dependent on my scholarship, I'd split. _Of course _he'd get Sinjin and creepy-friend-Barf to spy on us.

Tori and I waste about an hour staring into our food, trying really bizarre conversation. I tell her some of the shallower things I like about her (that she _must_ already know - but then she's _so_ touched because _I _said something that wasn't _completely_ ganky), and she gives me fortune-cookie-cutter, Confucius-say chiz that makes me want to take back the roundabout compliments I just gave her.

There must be a God though. Somehow, defying _all _known odds in the universe, it gets worse. These bros just come out of nowhere and won't leave us alone. _It keeps touching me_. Light threats and an elbow in the solar plexus does nothing. Chad is a moron, asking Vega is he can buy her a soda when she's _clearly_ drinking tea.

When my too-honest mouth tells whatshisface (probably _Brad_ or _Tad _or something) we go to HA and they ask for a song, I take a page out of Cat's book. Tori's known me long enough to know this smile and play along. A few steps to the DJ and she knows the plan. We're both the most excited we've been all night.

From the singing and the dancing to the purposeful roughhousing, I'm blazing glory. It's almost blistering in this mesh shirt. It's beautiful, really.

Getting back to our seats, my part-time friend excuses herself (I'm sure - to wash her hands), "Ew, I touched Sinjin."

I grimace, not knowing what kind of disease she might get, but don't let it bring down my mood. The rest of our night goes smoothly, laughter ringing over how hard we schooled those plebeians.

Next day after school, our performance goes off without a hitch. I see Cat's (and Robbie's too I guess) face(s, _whatever_) beaming in the audience. That image in mind, I don't even notice the Nozu bros 'til the very end. Caught in the grips of fight-or-flight, I don't want to do either alone so when Vega says 'run' I take off. She grabs my hand so I don't end up accidentally leave her klutzy self behind anyway.

Sprinting, I unlock my car with the key clicker-fob thing and yell at my unwitting passenger to tell Cat to meet us at the corner JetBrew. Those ascot-wearing hipsters shouldn't be there. I burn rubber hightailing it out of the lot.

I circle the block like a shark: stopping could mean death. I find the energetic Junior at the STOP sign. Getting in, she's confused as hell. Vega and I exchange knowing glances. Just laugh.

I take her home first and Kitty-Cat climbs into the front, even though Tori left the door open for her. Flashing smiles all around, the door closes and Vega disappears into her house. I'm so deliriously high on the arts (and maybe the little stint of exercise), I'm starting to fear I'll never come down. Excitedly tell best friend the whole story, we're vibrating with life.

Unfortunately, I have to drop the Kitten off since she's got a major Set Design project she blew off to sing bad-news songs all week. But it doesn't bring either of us down.

My dad knocks on my door the next day and actually exacerbates my condition by telling me (well he got 'let go' again) that he and The Mother would be gone on a "sabbatical" for "2 weeks".

The usual skewering loneliness does nothing to pierce my intoxicated state.

~~~BM~~~

Title from "Champagne Supernova" by Oasis.

Seriously, know the songs mentioned, they're great classics. (I'll forgive not knowing "Add It Up")

Oh, I got the idea for Jade's screenplay from another (shorter) Cade fic I planned to write forever ago and haven't gotten around to… One day?


	7. Chapter 7 … Love Beck

_This must be what Suicide Tuesday feels like._

My performance high runs out on Monday actually, during math.

Today, lethargically dragging myself back to math, I put my feet up on the basket of the chair in front of mine and lean back. I count the tiles on the ceiling until my eyes fog over. The distinctive sound of lunch draws my attention and I walk out the door.

Vega the Elder grabs my arm and it's only the fatigue in my reply that stops me from snapping at her. "What's wrong with you today? You're being all moody and whatever."

"Nothing, now back off." It's all bark; I just don't have the energy to bite.

She rolls her eyes, _as if she's not scared of me_, and scoffs. "Whatever." I hate when people repeat themselves.

I'm the first one to the table. I wait for Cat - I don't want to deal with anyone else. Robbie sits to my left, a bowl of soup. Then Vega across, a plate of fries and mayo. Gross. André and Cat at the same time, assorted papers and foods. _Oh right, they have some music class together. _André settles next to Robbie and Cat drops down next to me.

"Where's your lunch?" she demands. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Big breakfast." _Don't feel like it. _"But I wanted to talk to you." _Need to._

"Whaty?" Concern wells up in her face and it looks wrong.

I shrug. "Nothing really, I just wanna tell you my dad left yesterday on some business trip or whatever." _He's unemployed and missing._

Brows furrowed, a sadness creases her features. "Yeah?" She cocks her head to the side. _How long?_

"Yup. Like a week or so." _You should come by this week._

Her eyes move to glance at the papers in her left hand._ I have a lot of work to do,_ "Kay-kay." _I'll be there when I can._

She tears into her sandwich like we didn'tjust have a secret conversation.

Vega looks right confused. "Wait, why did you want Cat to know that? Don't we get to know too?"

"No." I reply flatly. She looks like a sad puppy when I dismiss her claim so quickly. "Besides, you're sitting right there, you _do _know don't you?"

"Know what?"

The voice makes my hair stand on end. Makes me suffer in dear agony. He takes the open bench to my right.

Our resident busybody shifts to her left, "Jade was just telling Cat her dad's going away for his job, but only Cat."

The look on Beck's face mirrors the concern on Cat's. My eyes harden. _Don't you dare say a word. _"Oh. Cool I guess."

"'Cool'? Don't you want to know why she wasn't going to tell the rest of us?"

"Watch it Vega," I warn, cutting the conversation. "Can't a girl just tell her best friend a thing or two without the third degree?"

Everyone drops the subject. I exhale: this was probably more trouble than it was worth.

I let the rest of the talk swirl around me. Time fades, our break ends. We leave.

_I_ leave. Left campus entirely. I don't want to go listen to a dude bore on about objective things that have no bearing on my future.

Withdrawing to my room, I put on Oasis. "By now you should've realized…" I trail, unable to keep going. Vaguely repetitive lines float around the room, and into the hall too since nobody's here to care.

_"All the lights that light the way are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how!"_

_Cat's so weird sometimes, but you can't tell her that or else she'll get mad. I push her on the swings while we wait for a parent (mine) or two (hers) to come pick us up._

_"How can you sing like that when you're flying in the air?" I swear, sometimes she doesn't need to breathe. Cat can talk so fast and for so long, or hold a note for _ever_. Her lungs should've exploded by now. That'd be so cool, but I'd be sad 'cause then I wouldn't have a friend anymore and I think that would hurt if she didn't die right away._

_"Because if I don't sing like that, it gets too quiet and it's scary when it's too quiet."_

_Her house was noisy a lot of the time. I know 'cause when we wait to get picked up, her parents usually come first and I go with them almost every day. Mom and Dad say they love me, but I'm pretty sure they forget about me._

_It _is _getting dark. "It's okay Kitty, I'll sing too. Okay?"_

_"Kay-kay!" Cat's mom and dad should be here soon so it's really okay. They're late a lot because they're busy taking care of Nate and Nate's been sick lately. He acts really weird some of the time but he never really gets in trouble._

_"I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me." _I blink. "And after all, you're my wonderwall."

I didn't notice I was singing again. That's what _Cat _does to me.

It seems wrong that our relationship was so thoroughly built on our parents' neglect. At least the Valentines honestly love their kids, they'd just occasionally give in to exhaustion during the first few years of their son's diagnosis. It's sad really, I saw a lot of his lucid mind and he was a really cool guy.

I chuckle darkly at the comparative reflection on my own progenitors. On the off-chance one of mine came for us, we ("we" being me and Cat) would call the Valentines and leave a message if we had to. I never called home; at first I'd fake it for the less-of-two-evils, because they never noticed.

They had just finalized their divorce in the beginning of summer so by the time school started up my mom was moved into her new apartment in Pasadena. Their line of communication just about killed me.

So bad were they at transferring messages: all year they weren't sure whom I was to stay with. They would ask _me._ I… _I _was 8. I had no flippin' clue. I wasn't even fully sure _why_ 'Mom' and 'Dad' weren't living together anymore.

These days, the story is _she_ was "trying to boost Jade's independence," and _he_ was "attempting to wean his daughter from doting attention at an earlier age." That hurt a little when I first heard it, because the truth was strikingly similar for the both of them.

_"I just unhitched myself from my spouse and we didn't set up an adequate schedule of custody. I'd rather sacrifice my only daughter than accidentally see that certain individual, especially since it'd obviously be a mistake. I don't want to make an ass of myself."_

_Ugh. I wanted to take my mind off Beck, not wallow in a different self-pity!_ I hate that. I remind myself of everything.

Why can't I just have that euphoria back from yesterday, from Friday? It was awesome. The fire in my veins different than any other kind.

I'm running out of outlets here. I spent of the past 7 days writing and my eyes are just plain tired of being open. I'm nearly always singing. Dancing goes right with the singing.

_Well that just leaves sex and drugs in the running. _I start to scold myself about clichés, but I reconsider: it is a classic, after all.

Not much appeal in the latter, aside from my constant caffeine (which, after discussing it in 9th grade health class, Cat tried to remove from both of our diets and I ended up cutting the bottoms out of all the cups at school in retaliation), or maybe on the rare occasion, alcohol.

_That leaves sex._ That kind of hurts more, considering the wound I'm trying to treat. I shake my head and get comfortable on the bed. Realizing my door's still open, and in spite of knowing that no one else is even _remotely_ here, I have to lock it shut anyway.

Resettled, I close my eyes and flick open the button on my jeans, sliding a hand into my underpants. I've been single for weeks and haven't had any satisfaction so I'm not in the mood for a pre-amble. Trying to think up a fantasy, I'm stuck on the thrill of karaoke, of shoving that jerkbag around and asserting my presence. It _was_ phenomenal.

I deviate from that train of thought before it takes me anywhere else. Clearing my mind, I focus on the warmth building between my thighs. Wiggling my fingers, they find my hood with the ease of practice. I pull my hand out and lick my fingers, wetting them. Impatiently returning them.

I'm frustrated. _I just want to come._

Tracing lightly over my clit, it spasms and I feel myself grow wetter with the analysis. _Oh god, it's been too long. _My hips surge forward to meet my fingers, increasing pressure where it matters.

_Fuck it. _I thrust two finger inside me and twist them, clenching my teeth at the feeling. My other hand trails diagonally up my stomach to cup my breast, pinching my nipple.

The hand positioned at my vagina starts walking my fingers against me. My eyes roll back into my skull at the sensations coursing through my body. Images flit across my eyelids, visceral memories drive me.

Heels kick into my mattress, pushing me further up on stacked pillows. Nails rake down my ribs and across my abs, splaying digits against my outer thighs. I spread my legs wider and drag my hand up the inside my thigh, nails stinging into the sensitive skin.

Fervently working my pacing fingers, my hips rolls of their own accord. Needing more, I pull my roaming hand directly over my now-exposed clit.

"Oh god…"

I rub even more furiously, gasping at the sweet friction. Each twitch setting off a chain.

Heat building deliciously, I near my breaking point.

I'm so fucking close.

Biting my tongue, the mix of pain puts me into overdrive. I tumble off the edge, surrendering to the waves of pleasure.

I can't stop my mouth from betraying me now, a strangled cry of "Beck!" falling from my lips.

My blood runs cold; my effort failed.

Tremors run through me as I remove myself from the bed, refusing to bask, to shower away some of my shame. Water does nothing except burn the angry red lines into view.

I close my eyes, falling naked to sheets. Still wet and still feeling unclean.

"I still…"

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Poor Jade… I feel bad doing this to her.

"Wonderwall" by Oasis…

Yeah… I'm gonna change it to M now before I forget (tell me if I forgot to do that before posting…). I know it's not sex yet, but this seems risqué for the kiddies.


	8. Chapter 8 I Forget What Eight Is

Wednesday, the next day, is a lot smoother. Ruined orgasm notwithstanding, I feel warm and light in some of the best ways. Sipping from my glass soda bottle; dark liquid burning a little.

Tori and André are sitting next to each other facing me. Cat and Beck to their right. _Traitor_. I know, it's ridiculous to not want my friends sitting together. It's ridiculous that I'm sitting next to him when all I want to do whenever I think about him is cry.

Robbie comes to take the empty side as I finish my drink, hoisting myself up.

"What's the rush Wicked Witch? I am water-free."

A lazy curl of a smile covers my face, "Shut it puppet." I head to the classroom to have a little alone time.

Opening the door, there are some high-pitched, clearly-fake kissing noises coming from the dark corner of the room. More than mildly confused, I slap the lights on.

"Sinjin!" The sock puppets were back, and it's glaringly clear that Sock-Sinjin and Sock-Jade had gotten past the _cuddling_ part. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Strange though he is, Van Cleef understands when he's in deep chiz; he hides his hands behind his back like I'm stupid. "How are you doing, Jade; are you lonely? How would you like a boyfriend?"

"No!" I bellow. "And give me that!"

Ripping the sock version of me - updated with black hair and a mix of blue and green highlights - I push him out the door. Closing it behind him, I examine the sock more conscientiously. It's quite good.

I then flick the switch and plunge back into darkness. Curling up on the stage, my eyes rest in a haze of contentment.

Light startles me awake as the gang catches up. "Jade?"

Blinking, I reply. "Tori."

"Rex!" Cat does a little jump and waves her hands. "Oh, are we not playing a game? "

"You left all wonky. Whatcha doin' sittin' here in the dark?" the most sensible asks.

"Hey Dré. Not a thing. I'm just basking."

"What have you done to Jade and who are you?"

My clearheadedness is fading. "Vega, I'm pretty sure you just asked those backwards."

"West: stay there." _Erwin's here_. "Harris, Oliver, Shapiro, Valentine, Vega: to the front. The rest of you can leave. Go dance or something."

The other five or so students turn back out the door. I stand up. "Okay, drive-by exercise!"

Robbie raises Rex's hand. "Why did the other kids have to leave if we're just doing this?"

"Because! They're boring and they just get in the way." He hands each of us a coconut. "Now: you're all monkeys dying of thirst."

We shrug and start without protest. Yeah, I'm almost _sure _he's using us 'cause his drill battery died again. _Whatever_. I sit down once more, beating the hairy-husked nut on the corner of a shelf.

When it starts to give, I pull it to my face and drink ravenously. I choke a little over the look of our teacher's face when he realized the flaw in his plan: we're going to drink the milk.

"Scene!" He's too late though, I finish draining the pale liquid. Looking up from the giant seed, he leans over and asks, "You see it too, right? Great… Well, give me your coconuts."

I don't. Opting to gnaw at it, "She didn't have lunch today," Cat defends. I nod; I finished the last of my Fat Cakes yesterday.

"You kids are free to go. She took all the good parts anyway." I head to leave but Sikowitz touches the back of my arm, "Jade, can I talk to you?"

"Sikowitz."

"West." He pauses, "Do you know what I want to talk to you about?"

Donning a nonchalance, I shrug. "I would already be defending myself if I did."

The brilliant, quirky hippie gives me a once-over, "And everything is all right?" I like that about Sikowitz - he enunciates and speaks deliberately. He doesn't sound like a moron. _Just a weirdo._ "Nothing _you _would like to talk about?"

I feign thought, "No. Can I go now?"

He waves me away. "Jade-"

"_What?_" This is starting to annoy me.

"Whatever's got you being less of a Crabby Cathy… if nothing's wrong then it's just pleasant to see you smiling for an entire class period without maliciousness. I'll see you on Friday."

"See ya." _Did I stand out that much today?_

I go to my locker for an honest water bottle to down.

"Jade?" _Oh my god, what _now_?_ I turn to familiar brown eyes, "You okay?"

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm just tired." _It's mostly true_. "I've kind of got a headache now. I probably shouldn't drive."

"M'kay, want to take the bus back together? I can call my dad and tell him not to pick me up today."

I look at her strangely, "We would take different busses…"

"Oh." She couldn't have forgotten, but the disappointment makes it sound like it was news to her. "Well it's just if you aren't feeling too hot I can go home with you and stay over or something."

"That's sweet Cat, but you have that assignment you need to finish for tomorrow 'n' all that stuff's at your house." I readjust my bag. "I'll be fine Kit. Chill."

I walk away, wondering if maybe I should've just been selfish and accepted her company. Her idea is a good one though - I might've never thought to take the bus. _Plus it's a hell of a lot safer._

Waiting, I pull a pen from my pocket and start a mini shopping list on the inside of my wrist. Getting on the bus, I consult my wallet prior to continuing my list comprised mostly of ready-made and microwave food.

In no time later, I step onto the sidewalk. I grab a bag of chips and some soup, stock up on a surprising amount of pasta… some Food Pockets, a few toaster-based pastries. Sue me, but it's a gas station not a supermarket.

House of mine is only about a block or so, cutting through the kind-of alley. 'Alley' always sounds so scummy, but it's really not. I put away the freezer foods, but stockpile the rest of the persevering crap in my room. My gut rumbles for sustenance, but the rest of my anatomy refuses it.

Reflecting on today's performance, I find the final stretch lacking. I should be able to be there all day without anyone asking me anything. _Maybe it's a more profound reflection on who they all think I am, that I'm questioned more if I smile than if I zone out_.

They're used to me spacing out a little. Or even point-blank ignoring them. I was buzzed that day we were telling Vega about how the ping pong team came to be - my dad was gone and it was my first chance to sneak alcohol around outside of the house. I stopped _in the middle of a story, to chew on my fingernail,_ and nobody seriously called me out on it.

I don't want to think about this anymore. The kitchen holds my (admittedly scumtabulous) solution: the _adults _won't notice anything, they blow through 'em by the crateful. You'd think they were fish.

Grabbing a Peppy Cola (no sense in tasting it if I have the option), I take the bottle to my room. I put on my headphones and continue my vegging-out to the Violent Femmes.

Scowling at the ceiling, it's somehow 14 hours later and I have to catch the bus to school. I have no clue if I slept or not. I'm still delicately chewing on headphone wires as I open the doors. I take a bizzle of 'water' and stuff it in my locker, exchanging it for a more legitimate source. Stopping at the door to the first class of the day, I take a deep breath to prepare.

What it did _not _prepare me for is Lane asking me to his office.

I literally just got here. _Chiz, where'd I go wrong? _The door closes behind me and I struggle to keep my composure.

"Jade, if what I think what I'm about to say is true, this _could_ go down on your _permanent record_." I bite my lip from smiling, his words mirroring the song in my heart. "Did you purposely injure Sinjin yesterday during lunch?"

"What?" I don't believe this. _That's _what I'm here about? "What are you talking about? I haven't hurt that whackjob! What gives you that idea!"

"Calm down, it's just that he reported to the nurse's office with a sprained wrists after lunch and some students saw you walking into the room he walked out of."

Well wazzbags. "Oh. It may have been me that sprained his wrist, but I didn't do it on purpose." I rush the latter half out before he could 'a-ha!' me. I wave my hands in small circles in front of me, trying to get my point out, "I went in and he was being a super creepazoid with the puppet thing again.

"H-he had a Sock-Jade an-and it was making out with a Sock-Sinjin," I stammer, eyebrows bowing into agitated little arcs. "It was _really _bizarre and made me uncomfortable in a kind-of-violated way, so I confiscated his 'me' and I might've been a little rough with how fast I did it."

The counselor seemed to understand, or at least he wasn't jumping to random accusations so that's a good sign. Alexander sighs, "I believe that you didn't mean to harm him.

"Especially since if you meant to, he'd be in more _critical_ condition…" _I don't think he intended for me to hear that._ "So Jade, weighing your feelings and his actions, (and your actions against your usual actions,) I think I can let you go this time. I'll talk to Sinjin about having his sock puppets here at school."

Lane climbs out of his chair, stopping for lotion, then moves to open the door for me. I'm in the clear, walking past him. Except…

"Jade, have you been drinking?" My eyes widen so much my vision changes; I stop but keep my back to him. "There's just something about you that smells like… well _alcohol_."

A short montage of everything I've drank in the last 36 hours flicker into prominence.

I furrow my brow, then lift them in cognition. "It's my backpack. Yesterday I wanted to try a new nail polish so I had to kill the last layer. I knocked the acetone over and it spilled into the stupid bag."

He takes my hand to examine it. The paint is chipped. "I didn't like it."

Lane's expression tells me he can't tell the difference and doesn't care.

My tone is bored as I lie evenly and I stick the tip of my tongue between my teeth to maintain a corresponding facial expression. Facing him, my eyes indolently meet his and I raise a brow.

"Can I go back to class now? Screenwriting's my favorite."

I can tell: if my voice had wavered or if I had looked too excited, he would've called my bluff. Barely believing me as is, he shoos me off.

Sitting back in my seat, I have a reckless smirk on my face. I just cheated 'the man'.

This is brilliant.

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Sorry for taking so long with posting this chapter, life's been busy in routine ways.

The song Jade's thinking of is going to be important, so if you can guess what it is already that's awesome.

Thanks for reading and feel free to comment. Or laugh at me, if you do it in a review (otherwise, don't you laugh at it…!)

Also, don't drink and drive.


	9. Chapter 9 What Do I Stand For?

kikouma: Points for the most interesting ultimatum ever. I mean was already planning to update, but I have to admit - I've never met a penguin _or_ been to New York… Fluffiness is in the works, but they just really haven't gotten there yet. Please bear with me.

sloth13: I know that last chapter was Cade-lacking, but rest assured this _is _a Cade story. I also know I move slow, so give it time? It's all a giant set-up for Cat and Jade to get together (somehow… eventually…), I promise. :)

~~~BM~~~

Weekend comes and goes: time is flying by in a haze. Even if I did have someplace to go, I left the car at school so I'd have to be picked up anyway.

I swear, it's like I'm in limbo: I don't know if I've done anything except some bad number games and turning in a rough script. I steal Cat's notes for first and Robbie's for sixth. And I've read Huck Finn before.

My friends are watching me warily, afraid for when my mood snaps. If they know anything at all, they should just be glad I'm drinking less and less to get this tipsy.

Granted, the only one who would know is the small one. _Well… _The living small one. Rex is almost like a person in himself, so different is he from Shapiro. Really I just need to separate the two.

Almost did that one time, then Tori had to go and make him 'alive' again. Now if Rex ever 'dies' again, Robbie's gonna take it much worse. Or he'll be old and his brain won't be able to handle it. Doggammit Vega, why do you have to mess everything up?

_What was I thinking about?_ Whatever. It's morning break and I need a little to top me off for the morning. At least until lunch.

Y'know I could eat today. It's like 10. Are pizza places open yet? I think so. I dial in the biggest chain I can think of and order a delivery for a quarter 'til 1 to the Asphalt Café, for the goth girl with highlights in her hair by the food truck.

I hang up, but I can't help but think maybe it would've been easier to just Grub Truck it like usual.

Scoffing, I shake my head at myself. _If I tried to do that, I'd change my mind by the time I got there. _Now it's like a binding contract - when that… (_what's on it?_)pizza comes, I pay for it and eat.

Unsure whether or not to appreciate the shorter classes of Monday, I float on to Pre-Calculus to play with more numbers. Half of it is logic and half of it is genuinely a different language: how is that anything _but_ a game?

I sit in the back, people watching as Ms. G babbles on about logs or wazz. One of the Vegas is scribbling away. I can do that.

Opening my notebook, I design a signature for the rest of class, never quite happy with any of them. Watching the clock, I carefully slip out the door when the mathematician is writing on the board.

Arriving early to the usual hangout, I stake out my table. There's a few minutes until lunch, but I don't want to risk the delivery dude getting here before me and getting all wazzy.

Instincts prove true as a white truck pulls to the lot, pictures of cheese and bread on the side. _Man, I should've asked for cheesy bread. _What _did _I order?

I'll find out soon enough. "Are you Jade West?" I nod, pulling out a pair of Jacksons. I mean, I only had 10 minutes to decide to eat, find the number, and order. It couldn't be _that_ much food.

_Whoa, daddy_… And _that_ was a bad assumption. I hand the driver those two Jacksons and another Hamilton in total, even a tip for doing this albeit-easy search.

"Didja get enough for the whole class?" The urban-fluent doll is mocking me again. It seems warranted when the driver comes back to hand me breadsticks (yay) and a gallon of Wahoo.

Sure enough, I could probably feed my next subject. Except the instructor - he doesn't eat dairy.

Okay, time to see what we got here… Vegetarian Supreme, Meat Lover's Supreme, Bacon Mega-Cheese Supreme (_I thought that was a burger?_)… Yeah, I probably just told them I wanted every 'supreme' they had. Awesome.

Everyone else that mattered crowds down around in disbelief - not that I blame them. Vega quirks her expressive eyebrows.

"I hate indecisiveness so I made a decision." Refuge in audacity.

"To not settle on a decision?" Robbie asks.

"To settle on all of them." Thank you Beck. He always understood me better than the others. Besides Cat. It's always Cat.

But now he's stealing Cat. They're sitting next to each other again today.

Catnapping? Naps are nice.

"Yep, now eat up kiddies, 'fore it's lukewarm and gross." Our token black friend is the first to shrug and dig in.

"Ooh! Jade did you get the bread with the saucy cheese on it?"

I pass around the smallest box, André reads the label: "Cheesy bread?"

"No…" brows knit together in thought.

"No?" He and I exchange confounded looks. His hand lowers. Taking in the faraway air in her eyes, "No?"

Red snaps to, taking the box. "Oh I mean yes!"

A sparkly smile lights her face, but she turns it to a certain boy instead. _My _boy. My boy who was no longer mine.

I scowl, losing my two favorite people. Swallowing my first bite of the oily baked goodness reminds me how starved I am. Scarfing down two more slices, a burp spreads a foul taste of my stomach contents and I stop for punch.

"Come up for some air?" _I swear Robbie, if you can't control that thing…_ Mutely listening to a mild scolding, I wash down the half-chewed bits.

"Holy cheese, hungry much?" Buttinsky asks. "No really, what'd you eat for breakfast?"

I shrug, closing my eyes to shake my head. "Why didn't you eat breakfast, Jadey?"

Beck scrutinizes us both, pupils sliding back and forth. "What makes you think she didn't?"

_So much for knowing me. _Cat rolls her eyes. "Beck, she _just_ told us. Weren't you paying attention?"

His strong, drooping jaw shuts, lips (_so kissable_) press into a thin line. Masking my longing behind breadsticks, I chew. "Didn't feel like it."

"What was the last thing you ate?" My best friend makes an appearance to interrogate my habits. "And when?"

"I dunno." The younger girl is unsatisfied; I put a little more effort into remembering. "Umm, I had a burger Outside-In-style on my way to my dad's from school."

For half a minute, I get my hopes up thinking the subject was dropped. But then Tori Vega comes along, "But today's Monday."

"Why yes, it _is _Monday! Now which one of you handsome strong men is going to hold my hand across the street?"

"I sound _nothing like that_," she hisses. I drop my chest to a more comfortable level. "All I'm saying is yesterday was Sunday."

"Thanks _Kathy_, I'll uh _keep that in mind_ when I tell you to mind your own business." My eyes flash dangerously for her to back off; the perky brunette's mouth gapes. "Are you done, yeah? 'Cause I am."

Seriously, she's killing my buzz with her questions and her face.

Crushing down on lingering distress, we witness the disappearance of the pie. It's like a bad commercial or something.

By the end of lunch, only the bacon box has any left. I leave - not wanting to deal with it, taking my comically-large beverage with me. All I know is Robbie probably didn't take it. Maybe they pawned it off on Trina or Sinjin, or someone who actually wasn't remotely our association. Like a freshman.

I stop short of the classroom when an idea hits me so hard I _have to_ stop walking.

Backtracking to my locker, I pull out a half-full plastic water bottle. Carefully, I decant some of my Wahoo to refill the half-empty container. Satisfied with my steady hands, I replace the larger jug in my locker and sip at the new mix.

It's way better but still vile. I miss the fire tearing at my throat.

Acting has us split up to work on different parts for yet another new play. This time he pulls out roles and matches it to the next name on the attendance sheet.

I tune in when Cat's name is called and small smile emerges when she's given the lead. Vega's name is called… and she's playing a talking dog. My small smile evolves into a delighted smirk.

'West' should be next, after which the word "crew" comes from his lips.

My eyes bug out. _Lighting was bad enough. _Between getting electrocuted and puppet-shredding, I'm _really_ starting to think we aren't meant for set production. At least lights were pretty. _Plus… _"With Sinjin?"

"Good! You know the crew. And some other nameless oddballs." He turns around, "No Jade, you can't switch or trade or abandon ship."

"Ugh, Sikowitz!" There are no signs of him giving in, "Fine, what's this play about anyway?"

"If you had been _listening_, you would know it's a new perspective on a classic mystery series that entirely recategorizes the program."

Don't care. If it's a 'classic' maybe I won't hate it. We're sent off to regroup and discuss. Mosshair is absent today, so I just drink from my beverage instead of opening my script.

Eventually I get bored of sitting alone in the classroom. I stalk around the Black Box, flitting between the shadows, watching Vega read her lines and talk to Cat and Robbie. I slowly climb up to the catwalk, leaning against the stairwell wall. I find my group again. From bird's-eye-view, I watch the boy that was mine walk away from his best friend toward mine.

The bell rings, and everyone else leaves but them. They're talking - but what's so important that they're gonna be late for class? I don't know whether to chalk it up to curiosity or a sickness, but I stay to watch.

I'm on my knees, unable to breathe. _He's kissing her._

_She's not slapping him._

I want to cry out and scream; I want to rip my hair out and throw things; I want to jump from the catwalk and crush both of them.

None of these things happen. My eyes close but the image is burned into my retinas. When I'm finally able to get to my feet, I run to the bathroom. I blame it on a greasy lunch, on too much booze with too little food, on anything else.

None of those are true.

Cleaning myself off, I disregard the stares. Sitting at the empty spot next to the puppet attendant, I can tell he really wants to ask me why I'm late looking like a mess.

I don't answer his implied query. The next few days revolve around me avoiding the gang after the actual voicing of _my_ question.

"Shapiro, can you drive me after class? I don't feel well and my car's parked on the far end of the Asphalt Café."

_I know she's not a prude, but I can't even wrap my fucking mind around it._

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Title from "Some Nights" by Fun. (.?)

This chapter started as filler, but then I stuffed more into it.

Yeah, again 'don't drink and drive'.


	10. Chapter 10 I Don't Hate All Pink

"Could it be you?" I change the lyrics in my head.

"_Couldn't be you._

_"Situation gets rough then I start to panic." I know this song like I know my name. It seemed like a worse idea a few hours ago, but now it sounds perfectly reasonable. The pain in my mouth is receding and I'm sure I'll be able to sleep. "Darling this is it…_

_"Behind my back I can see them stare," I sing along. _And if they think I can't, then I probably hate them. _Even my fudgy friends and it frigging hurts._

_Sinjin made a puppet for me; why didn't Beck ever love me like that? I wouldn't even care that it's totally creepy as long as he cared to make me something._

_Nodding to the beat, I line the glasses, filling each with individual care. "I take one, one, one 'cause you left me._

_"Two, two, two for my family." _Here's to you motherfuckers!

Three, three, three for my heartache._ My eyes pinch together as this one burns more than the others._

_"Four, four, four for my headaches." It's all I can do to keep up with the pace and mumble along. "Five, five, five for my lonely._

_"Six, six, six for my sorrow. Ei-" _What is wrong with me…_ "-ven, seven for na-na-na-no tomorrow." _God, I wish.

_"Eight, eight, I forget what eight was for." I choke into my little cup, finding it much funnier than I should._

"But nine, nine, nine for a lost cause." I murmur against the plastic bottle held tightly to my bottom lip. "Ten, ten, ten…!"

"Ten for everything." A soft hand lands on mine. "Let's go Jadey."

"Where are we going?" I slur: _crap_. I lick my lip to try regaining some dexterity. "Cat, lunch just started."

"Don't care. I'm getting you somewhere less public. I'm calling Robbie to tell him why you won't be in class today so he can tell your guys' teacher."

I trip along after her, "I don't want to go back to my house. It's boring and lonely and there's nothing real to eat." I'm far enough gone I don't care that I'm whining.

She's waving at me to sit down, so I do. Moments later, she conjures up a blue taxi and I smile because I hate yellow. Pushing me in first, she slinks around to the other side of the taxi. I pull the seatbelt on obediently before ducking under the shoulder strap and leaning over to lay my head in her lap. There is no pain or discomfort.

I hear her give the intersection of my dad's house to the driver. I want to protest, but her hand urges my head to stay down to her lap. Her fingers are soothing as the scratch along my scalp, twisting themselves through my hair.

Wiggling around, I ogle as her lips move to tell the person in her phone that I "won't be in class today, and maybe not at school at all tomorrow" because she found me "barfing out guts so it's probably the flu."

_You're so amazing, Kitty-Cat._ She giggles so I might've said that out loud.

Oh well, it's true.

Directing the car to my house, I haven't remembered my voice and fuss like a child. Our velocity goes to zero though.

"I'm taking you to my house in just a sec, just go get your stuff." _Which stuff? _I ask with my eyes. "Anything you might need for a few days."

I want to argue some more, but she grabs my face and she stares at my soul: "I'll be waiting right here, I promise." Releasing me, "Now go, the meter's running."

I fly into the house, almost forgetting to unlock my door (_nobody else needs to!_), I grab almost everything I see. I stop, take a breath, and move through. I pack my PC and a bunch of clothes into another backpack, doubling back for my laptop charger in case she's using hers at the same time. It's a couple minutes later that I'm locking the door behind, ever thankful to _leave _the place.

I start to put the new bag between us, but she just crosses her legs onto the seat, the way only someone as short as she is can, and drags it to where her own backpack is. Then she pats her thigh for me to return. I oblige as she gives her own address to the taxi-guy.

I know it should take at least 10 minutes, but it's instances later that she's paying the dude. I spill out of the door, Cat comes around to the sidewalk with my forgotten bags and I feel bad that she's carrying so much stuff.

We take off our shoes as soon as we get in; she pushes me up to her room instead of staying downstairs. I slump into her bed and she excuses herself to look in on her brother.

"Stay with me," my treachery whimpers.

A sad uptick of her lip creases her pretty face into a frown of sorts. A promise to return.

Returns, she does. My heart breaks again at her feverish efforts to tuck me into her sheets. "I'm gonna need you to sober up… Can you do that for me baby girl?"

"Please don't leave me." _I don't want to be alone._

Cat walks to the door but shuts it. Undoing her work, my colorful bedmate crawls in beside me. It's almost peaceful.

The trance is broken by a banging that shakes the walls, and I swear she's crying with me.

_"It's getting worse Jadey," mewls a sad Cat. "I'm scared."_

_"Shh, it'll be okay." Leaning against the tub, I soak the hand-towel in the pinkening waters again. "Now hold still and close your eyes."_

_The distraught girl quiets under my hands, wincing at the pain in her scalp. I dot at her hairline softly, smoothing the cloth down her forehead with increasing pressure. Dipping it again, I stroke her part with errant fingertips, terrified to add pressure here._

_Her eyes close in earnest now, a light squeal leaking out in apprehension. I work slower, searching out any leftover shards or slivers to add to my growing pile; my hands are raw from finding them._

_When I'm certain I've combed out all the debris, I sponge the area down. She lets out another nervous peep. I shush her again with unwavering reassurances._

_For an undisturbed minute, the only sounds are running water and ragged breathing: a truly unnerving combination. Then: "How can you be sure?"_

_"Because if it's not, I'll make it okay myself."_

Clearly I was wrong. Everything isn't okay; it had just been glued back together and taped so tightly it jarred against itself.

I wake up feeling really bad in the "I painted your pillow with my face and now we're both gross" way.

Makeup already ruined, I continue rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Yawning, I look at my classmate. _She really was crying._

A slightly deranged cackle splits the calm, putting my short hairs on end and jogging my memory to what the track on her face are from.

_Sure enough, Nate comes back 2 months later, almost too normal for the young man we've known for the past 3 years. "See Kitten, I told you it'd be okay. It worked itself out without us."_

A mild nausea gets the better of my desire to lay next to her. I grab her purse and rifle through for an Advil to dry-swallow, completely unwilling to drink anything lest it jostles my stomach. Carefully extracting myself from her completely, replacing a Mr. giraffe in the still-warm spot against her. Stripping the besmirched pillow, I re-dress it and throw the blackened case into her hamper.

I do the same with my clothes as I strip, then lean my head forward under a deluge of water. I shiver stubbornly, fingers digging as it heats against my skin, soon scalding me a gory mess of lines and handprints.

Tipping my head back, the water glides over the top of my head, over my face where I inhale little sips of water to combat the residually-growing headache. Rinsing my mouth with larger sips, the taste is revolting but properly brushing my teeth seems out of the question for my gag reflex.

I'm half-certain I've used up the hot water when I wrap an embarrassingly pink towel around me and stack another on my head. I follow the steam out into Cat's bedroom where she's propped up against her pillows, hands tucked behind her head, the natural-colored animal unmoved on its side, all but forgotten.

"C'mere Bittersweet." Reorganizing the cloth in my hair onto the fresh pillow and using one hand to hold the towel to my body, I squirm in beside her. Questioning the nickname she answers, "You're being too much of a butt for me to call you 'Sweetness'.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she demands after a pause.

I want to scream my lungs out ("I'm not! You're doing this to me! How could you?"), but the words won't come out. I tell her I don't want to talk about it.

Cat tries to get up, but I hold her back.

"Sing to me?"

She resettles, having picked a song, I'm surprised when she opens her mouth.

"You're so mean when you talk about yourself." Unsure whether I'm trying to will myself to cry or to _not_ cry, I close my eyes and press them into her shoulder. "You were wrong."

I don't know if her mumbling the next lines are my imagination or if she really forgot the words, but I listen again as her voice builds confidence for a less-melodic verse.

"Done lookin' for the critics 'cause they're everywhere. They don't like my jeans; they don't get my hair. Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time: why do we do that? Why do I do that?"

"_Why do I do that?_" Hardly a whisper, but it's out there.

~~~BM~~~

AN:

"Fuckin' Perfect" by P!nk

"Kiss Off" by The Violent Femmes

Ah haha… Chapter 8 was totally a set up for this! I was actually going to make this song it's own one-shot set after TWC, but then felt pointless when it fit so well here (without setting up a new story).

So yeah, the beginning is like a mini-flashback filler between chapters 7 and 8.

And yes, Jade has been drunk for the last 3 chapters now. But I think she'll be okay.

Hope you guys enjoyed this bit of Cade, as promised in my last chapter. Normally I'd wait longer to post this, but I need the gratification of views and reviews now rather than later.

So please review?


	11. Chapter 11 Savvy Cat

"So why'd you do it?"

I lick my lips to no avail, watching her watch me. "Do what?" _Doggammit Cat, gimme a chance to wake up…_ "I was just… frustrated."

"Great, next time go write it in a journal or something. Blog it up and I'll read it." Nudging me with an elbow, I crack my eyelids and am blinded when she smiles. "We used to do that, 'member? You'd get all pre-teen angsty and I'd look through your overdramatic thoughts while you slept or something. The good ole days."

"More like the 'bad ole days'… You wrote some _dark_ chiz, chickita." A wry smile works itself to my face, a curious hand lifting to her skull. "We dyed your hair though, maybe it _did _addle your brain?" I give her a shake for good measure, "You're all cheery an' buoyant."

A sigh, she flutters her arms at me to disengage with a roll of her eyes. "We can't all brood forever, _West_."

"We can't all be superheroes either, so don't whip your tail at me, Woman."

"Then hang up your cape and talk to me for real." Breaking eye contact, I stretch. "Okay, no more geeky references. For _real_ real. We're not going anywhere until you talk."

"I guess we won't be making it to school today huh?" I peek over at the clock, 9 AM and I must've slept for like 15 hours. "We'd be late anyway. I'm gonna get some water."

My bones protest when I get up, but I don't quite trust myself or my senses with the contents of my backpack. My second skin slips as I do so, and for poor, blushing Cat's sake I pull clothes on. Padding down the steps and into the kitchen, the tell-tale creak of bottom step alerts me to my keeper.

"I'll talk, but I don't want to be here," I whisper over the glass' rim.

With her eyes closed, she nods. "Let's go to the park."

Despite eagerness to get to the root of what's bothering me, the redhead flits around me to make toast. I'm not about to complain about the opportunity to sip my _cool, refreshing, hydrating _water against the churning in my guts. Resting my forehead on the cool marble countertop, I drink my fill.

Turning to sooth my right temple, I watch my better half work. She sets up two butter knives (man, I hate butter knives - they're just regularknives that got dulled) and lines two jars up. After spreading both substances liberally on more untoasted bread, she cuts them in diagonals but leaves the crust on. What kind of pansy can't eat a sandwich 'cause of bread crust?

The process repeats itself so I get up to wazz instead of viewing the instant replay. Upon return, a paper bag rests, neatly folded, where I sat only a minute ago.

Handed a piece of buttered toast, I'm ushered outside, not allowed to sit again. Shrugs all around, I nibble my toast. She hooks her arm in mine, controlling our pace to suit her shorter, equally-barefooted legs.

It's ungodly bright and sunny out so our rainy-day spot under the play structure bridge is perfect for shade. Leaning against the shiny blue leg, Cat does the same before handing me a PB&J. "So…"

Avoiding this conversation and the immediate awkward turn in store, I pick at my sandwich. Words dumbing my vocal cords.

"I've been frustrated…" When she doesn't appear to follow, I sigh. "Sexually, Cat."

She jumps, "Shh! This is a family zone - there are children here!"

"What children?" I deadpan, "They should be at school. Don't be a priss. Anyway I was masturb-" The glare she gives me is stern at best. "I was play-"

"Don't say 'playing'… I mean, look where we are."

I groan, "I was _carnally self-pleasuring myself_," she flashes an approval, "_whatever_, and when I… _achieved maximal bodily satisfaction_ I-" I trail off.

My best friend offers me a juice box, a silent prompt that offered time. I wet my lips with it more than anything.

"I moaned Beck's name when I came." A flicker of sympathy crosses her face, and something else. Guilt maybe? I bait: "Ruined everything, it's just hard 'cause he's on my mind a lot I guess. Like when we used to kiss."

She doesn't take the line, even if her frown deepens ever so slightly. _Traitor._ I especially don't want to deal with _that_. I'm just enjoying a day of hooky with my bestest friend, having a picnic where we used to waste time as _carefree_ kids.

"So…" word heavily dropping from her usually-nimble tongue, "_frustrated _huh." Thanks Cat, really. Thank you for listening. "We should fix that."

I choke on the trace amounts of apple juice trickling in my throat. _Did not see that coming. _"What?" is the first thing that happens when I regain my trachea.

"Don't die," she comments dryly. "Let's go shopping!" She rises fast enough to slam her shoulder into the underside edge of a platform. Crying out, she drops back to the bark.

"Right, I'm gonna finish this first. I'm hungry. You gonna live?"

"No, I'm dying now, Jade. Take me away, and let us spend my final moments finding you a vibrator."

I almost drop my foods. _So much for keepin' it PG. _"Ha ha, very funny. Wait, are you _serious_? So I guess we're not going to Green Meadow's."

"Nope, we're going to that one smoke shop off the main strip." I look at her blankly. There's like a friggin' _million_. "You know, the big one with the green swirlymajigs."

Right. _That one_. "On the off-chance I'm wrong about which one you mean, you can just give me directions."

I swear I'm dreaming. Honestly, why else would I be walking back to her house to get shoes so we can go looking for sex toys? It simply defies the nature of… _nature_. Whatever the case, I've correctly located the illicit store and park in their lot (I hate looking for parking).

Inside the store, it looks like any other smoke shop: random crap everywhere. We're immediately approached by some slimy dude in his 20's and we flash somewhat-convincing ID's but I really don't think he cared since he spent the whole time not-so-covertly _staring at my tits_. Free to access the basement, I push aside the beads lining the top of the doorway, warily watching Cat gallop down the steps.

_Well _this_ is a whole different animal of new world._ Should I just call this a sex store? _Cat_, though… She's skipping along the aisles the same way she did at the supermarket; it's mind-boggling. Don't get me wrong - I've been in sex shops before, but mostly sneaking in and not having the time to look at anything. _Now_ though, I have the time to look at everything and I take advantage of it.

Picture for picture, box for box, I read the descriptions on each and every one. I scrunch my face a few times, imagining the tool at work and plainly not understanding anatomy enough to appreciate it. _Each their own, whatever._ Other toys though… I _will_ be needing a cold shower when I get back.

I pick a box to examine in earnest when my bouncing companion ("Find something?") appears at my side. "Ooh that's a nice one."

Refusing to blush, I turn the conversation back at her. "How do you know?"

Forever Cat-like, she simply winks.

It's enough for my mouth to drop open. "Cat Valentine, have you been keeping secrets from me?"

"It's not a secret if you never asked," she quips smartly. That's neither a 'yes' or a 'no' and I don't know how else to take it, except I feel like it's applicable to more than just this. "Anyway I read reviews about it, so maybe what I _should_ have said was 'It's supposedly a nice one.' Any more questions?"

"Think I should get it?"

"Beats you being drunk: all day, every day. That can't be good for you liver, by the way. If you're done looking, let's go! We can get breakfast-lunch." Little though her form, she shoves me to the counters.

I playfully lean back to make her task more difficult. The dude at the register is way older than the wazz that originally carded me; he asks for my ID. Taking a breath, I open for my wallet and am about to withdraw the slip of plastic once more. Interrupted, I hear Cat pipe up.

"It's cool RJ, she's with me."

I pinch myself because this has gotten too weird for even me. _Since when does Cat vouch for me?_ Oww.

Whipping out from behind me, the man sees the speaker and smiles. "What's doin' BC? I don't see you 'round a lot. Been thinkin' you forgot about me." _Seriously oww!_

"You, Ray? Never. Have you talked to Fred and David recently?" The man shakes his big head, "They're adopting a baby!"

"That's awesome! I'll have to give 'em a call later on." Ray motions at me, "Say, who's your friend?"

I watch her turn a magnificent shade of red before her voice catches up with her mind, "Oh Ray, this is Jadey- err, _Jade_. She's my best friend from forever."

"Rayford Johansen, but nobody calls me that but my mom. Pleasure to meet you Jade."

I reach forward to take the hand jutting out at me, "Pleasure's mine, RJ."

"At least it will be, from the looks of it." I blush now, too unprepared with too new an acquaintance to shield myself properly. "I've known Cat here for a long time, so it's in your best interest not to hurt her."

"Funny," complexion under control, I look him square in the eye: "I guess that means I won't have to say the same to you."

He breaks into a grin at that, ("She's feisty, don't lose this one Cat") and tells me whatever I just tried to buy is on the house. Thanking him, the phone rings. We smile politely, then wave our goodbyes as he shoos us on.

In the light of day, I slip everything into my bag and focus a curious eye on the shorter girl. Information is not forthcoming. "So?

"_Fred and David _as in _Uncles_ Freddy and Dave?" Her lashes bat prettily in the sunshine. "Cat!"

"Yeah, Ray's friends with them. He had a small shop just outside the Haight and ended up moving here. Competition there y'know? Way chill in comparison." She grabs my hands and pulls me to the car. "Also, I think he found love here in Hollywood."

We buckle in and I turn the key in time with my question: "Married?"

"Dompart." _Ah. _That's cool.

"Right." I take the well-travelled road to the Inside-Out drive-thru. "Hey, why'd RJ call you 'BC' earlier?"

Giggles fill the silence, "_Black Cat_ used to be my, like, _codename _when I'd hang out with him in his store 'cause it'd probably be bad if anyone else saw me."

I gasp out of my laughter long enough to get two dos-deuces, Outside-In-style fries, and a neapolitan shake, then close my window to laugh my head right back off.

Back at her house, we eat. I'm afraid of bringing up certain topics, so I suggest a movie. This sets the mood for the whole weekend, studiously rewatching cult-classics.

On the bright side, I've never a chance to look so deeply at The Wall in my life.

~~BM~~

AN:

A "smoke shop" is the locally accepted term for a "head shop", or where one might find drug-related stuff, but often have other things such as knives, sex-related items, or just plain random cool shit. ^_^ Just in case of any confusion (there was a roadtrip where that was confusing…) so there you have it!

Haight(-Ashbury) is a famous district of San Francisco known for its influence in the drug culture (Summer of Love) in the 1960's. And hippies. Also, Haight is _literally_ right next to the gay district (Castro).

Also, I don't mean to alienate anyone or overlook anyone when I address certain readers, 'cause I read (and adore) all the reviews you guys give me. So know I don't mean to leave any of you out, I just don't know how to respond with more than ":) Thanks dude, I appreciate the support. I can't wait for you to read the next part." …And if you didn't the references in the beginnings, it's Batman (actor Adam West)


	12. Chapter 12 Physical Truth

Ameha Kay: I'm glad you appreciate Cat's adorable oddness. I try really hard to keep her on the more cheerful end of things.

kikouma: See, I figure Cat isn't so innocent - but likes to play coy. I think about when everyone was stuck in the RV and she's flirting with that group of boys, or when she interviews cute boys in her room.

Sorry about the delay, I was out of town last weekend and didn't get a chance to work on this as much as I wanted to. Am here now, and super receptive to all things said! Now on with the writings!

~~~BM~~~

Tired bodies drag through open doors, too late for coffee (there's no such thing, but Cat refused to be late) when we arrive with the final bell.

Wearing garishly overbright clothes, speaking at higher octaves, more erratic non-sequiturs… the iridescent girl seemingly transforms into the caricature of herself she's been recently.

_Sure_ I've been smashed about a week-and-a-half straight, yet Cat's been off for most of that time. _Even if I thought I was imagining it_. My Cat was there for me all weekend, but it's bright and early Monday morning: illusions cast by the weekend fade and I have to face reality.

There's something up with Cat.

But I dare say I already suspected that.

Nothing eventful happens. Nowhere near stable enough to handle it, I ditch lunch with the gang since they'll probably be talking whatever about Sikowitz's play. The brief moments I was present for, though, were even more mortifying than Nate wearing my underclothes.

_"So what'd you guys do over the weekend?" Ever nosey-Vega. "I killed Trina, but then found out it was only a _really _good dream."_

_"We went toy shopping!"_

_"Toy shopping?" Ever-skeptical André fixes an eye on the blabbermouth. "Jade took you to buy toys for you?"_

_"Don't be silly, I brought Jade to go shopping for toys for her." I focus on the sensation of biting my cheek I give her a pained look. "Jay kay! We went to visit my uncles' friend who's really nice."_

I rolled my eyes at that point and went for a 'solitude in a dark classroom' arc.

The freakiest curly-haired one (with the surprisingly well-adjusted sister) is here today, but when I go to inform him of our roles out of professional courtesy he hands me a few pages.

"I talked to Sikowitz on Friday and he said we were working together on crew. The guys and I are pretty self-sufficient in this so we'll work our usual parts. Since you weren't here when I came back, I've take the liberty to edit the script to a condensed form that tells you the cues for the parts you'll be womanning."

If I were ever to say something about Sinjin that wasn't rude, it'd be that he's unbiased. And while I'm not exactly a fan of liberties being used in the English language, neologistically it wasn't _in_correct.

"Okay." _Well _that's _done. _I sift through the papers and find what role I've been assigned. _Smoke machine_. Awesome.

Crew does a quick run through, which I zone out until I hear my first actual cue: a bloodcurdling scream. I'm actually having fun when it's over and the boys are tweaking their soundboards and recalibrating their devices. Since there's not going to be time for anything else on my part (and it's not like I'm gonna get to play with any more fog until they get the fan back from the middle school), I wander off to search the thespians.

Grace is using some nasally voice and hobbling around like a blind man, calling out, "My glasses!" I keep walking. Vega's got her head cocked hard to the side like a confused puppy. I snigger when I remember she's supposed to be some animal. André has his arms raised menacingly over his head like a vintage creeper. I shake my head at the over-the-top 'muahaha'ing. Robbie walking around, flopping his limbs to give them a lanky appearance.

_I know it's a small class, but where is everybody?_ Shuffling around the maze that is the back of the Black Box during rehearsal, I find them together again. Alone.

Hiding behind an unfinished piece of set, I lambaste myself for thinking there might be something going on. I'm about to step closer and see what they're doing when she jumps up and wraps her arms around his neck. I can't tear my masochist's eyes away as their faces close in on each other. Lips touch and I'm sprinting away before my sight registers a change in the scenery.

My hasty retreat to the classroom is cut short by my sprawling halfway across the concrete, scraping my forearms and elbows through my already-tattered top. I scramble to my feet, brush myself off, a fleeting thankfulness that no one saw that. I briskly walk to the abandoned room and take my bag.

Last class of the day. I lean my back flat against the wall beside the door, fighting gravity but end up sliding to the floor anyway. Now fetal-positioned, I lean my forehead to my knees, willing myself not to cry.

Cat hasn't been seeing anyone for a while now. _Has she been interested in someone she couldn't have? _Someone she could have now?

Sounds of the passing period reach me, but I'm content to let everyone walk around me in and out of the classroom. "Jade? Are you okay?"

"Just a headache." Right. Shapiro's in this period with me. "Thinking about skipping out."

"But we're starting a new chapter on mirrors and lenses!" Pushing his glasses higher, he's apparently grown a pair: "I have a real part in the play, I can't just let you steal my notes this week. C'mon, tolerate me just a bit longer."

Groaning, I saunter into the room, more irritated than heartbroken and I suppose I should say something. "Thanks Robbie."

He looks at me, bemused as he holds the door open. _Bet you wish Rex was here to give a smart-ass comment_. I wonder where that puppet is; he's been around less and less recently.

Mr. Coplin glares when I kick my feet up onto the lab bench, but refrains from saying anything given what he knows about me and my current proximity to a bunsen burner. I ignore it the same way I ignore Rob's questioning eyes.

I don't need Robbie's notes; I have the book in my room right now. I can read. Painted nails dig into raw palms, I swallow a hiss of pain. A pleasant baritone sets the mood of my doodling, abstract two-toned colors filter out the most inane of tripe, the occasional word sifting through.

_Properties of mirrors: my ass._ I've done set designs, I can calculate angles of light and reflection. Theoretical chiz should be way easier.

Nondescript lines gain form, morphing into a Black-Eyed Susan's profile. Its drooping petals pair together, the grooves structured into hearts pointing into swirls at a black-hole center.

Taking my boots from their resting place, I bend forward to fish a red marker out from my bag on the desk. Setting the notebook on the hardwood surface, I hunch closer to the paper, nose scant inches from it as I concentrate on the highlighting points and lines at random. Fixing my posture, I take in the picture as a whole.

It's a cartoon feline face with long spiraling whiskers glaring out an oddly-monochrome flower.

Reaching to the sketch with my scissors, I can't quite bring myself to destroy it. Rather, I turn the page and, amid a mess of broken hearts, copy down the assignment (_problems 1-27, p. 134_) due on Thursday.

School lets out nowhere _near_ soon enough though in no time at all I'm tearing up the highway. Blinking the road into cognition, I pull to the third lane to give the appearance I'm going slower than I am (_okay to trick myself into slowing down_) and plug my PearPod in. Clicking shuffle, that's the only way to describe the array of music that suits how I feel.

At the house, I get the mail on my way in. _Bill, bill, junk, bill, junk, newsletter from school, junk, … a postcard? _It's addressed to me, first name only, from the adults of the household. The print reads "Wish you were here" in some goofy script and I'm sure the card-makers are patting themselves on the back for their "creativity".

On the bright side: while those chizrags are too busy to write their own note, they all signed it (_all_ being 'Dad', 'your new Mom', and Fifi or whatever that stupid pooch's name is).

I grunt in disgust and place it on the burner, twisting to dispose of the less-offensive trash, turning the knob to gas the fire. The laminated picture of rainbow ducks running through flowers (which tells me absolutely nothing about where in the world they might be) darkens in the middle before _spontaneously_ erupting in flame.

Smirking as it ashes out, I shut off the stove and sweep the remains with the bills.

More importantly than where they are - _not that I care, but isn't that the _point_ of a postcard? _- it _does_ tell me they're not coming back anytime soon. _Whatever, only one more week here before I can go back to my mom's._

I set myself on the edge of the burgundy chair. Light all the candles within reach. Locked away in my room I'm free to admit how hurt I am. Who at, as I sink into the cushioning, I'm not sure.

It's some untold amount of time later when I look up from my cramped pose, elbows digging into the bends of my cross-legged knees. I swipe at my eyes angrily. Beck can do whatever he wants - who am I to feel anything at him?

I force out a breath like I've been punched in the gut. Teeth grit - _I need coffee._ Back in the kitchen, the smell of burning still strong, I pour the grounds and wait for it to brew. Waiting with a new patience, I think hard on all the crap I need to do. The homework, the projects, the scripts. At least I don't also have to write music this semester.

Unplugging the coffee maker, I take a mouthful of the near-blistering blackness straight from the pot- a twinge in my chest at how bitter it is - and swallow.

I sigh and rinse out a cup, splash water on my face to clear off some of my smeared mascara, and feel a little better when I return with a mug of hot coffee.

After about an hour, I'm 4 pages into the chapter I need to have understood by the next class session. It's harder than I gave it credit for. I grab my phone to tap in Cat's number when my fingers stop cold on the screen.

I type up a message to Robbie instead. "Where are you?"

Moments later, the red device vibrates in my palm. " home. Y?" I raise my left hand to open a reply; it buzzes again. I roll my eyes at the correction. I expect Rex probably told him it wasn't cool, but _he_'s been MIA. "At home, why?"

"Cuz I'm coming over. Have your science stuff. Be there in 20."

Throwing the work into my bag, I snatch up my keys from the counter by the mail on my way out. 19 minutes later, I'm picking at my nails in his driveway. The main entrance opens and the dorky boy looks right at me.

Vague greetings are thrown around and we sit in his living room since it's what we done for all the years we've known each other.

_"Jade! Did you see that? Robbie just got pushed down by those 7th graders!"_

_I turn around. "What's a 'Robbie'?"_

_"That kid over there with the curly hair and glasses," she says, exasperated. _Jewfro-Glasses-Dork, got it._ Being pushed around by Gaptooth-Oily-Face and Stringy-Hair-Nosejob._

_"How do you know his name already?" It's just the first day! "And please explain how that's our problem."_

_"He's in my math class, and that's not the important part." My midget-height friend rolls her eyes. "I'm gonna go talk to that bully."_

_I run after her as she walks away from me way faster than her teeny legs should be able to carry her. "Hey, why don't you pick on somebody your own size?"_

_"That was original Cat. Really, I've never heard that one before."_

_Gaptooth lets out a hyena laugh when he sees whom the powerful command came from. "Look Austin, it's another one! These little 6th grade snots are just comin' outta the woodwork."_

_'Austin' the rhinoplasty candidate scoffs as he looks my short schoolmate over. His lazy eyes settle on me. "Since you're only half our size, what about your friend here?" Coming up to his nose, I give him stare for stare. "What do you think, Randy?"_

_Cat stutters for a second. "Can't you just leave us all-" She doesn't get to finish her question when Randy's grimy hand fastens itself across her face and pushes _my_ Cat onto her butt._

_She _does_, however, whimper and then I was on Randy like stupid on his face. They regret it. It's not 10 minutes later I'm being called to the Vice Principal's office about beating up two innocent boys. Cat and that Robbie kid follow like baby chicks, cheeping out protests to adult-deafened ears._

_Slipping into the small room, a Mrs. Chambers gets on my chiz about those wazzbuckets. She lectures me about violence not being the answer, tells me I have a week's detention. Opening her disciplinary notepad, my baby chicks crash through the door, rambling about how I saved them from the so-called innocent boys._

_"Is that true, Miss West?"_

_"Yeah, sure."_

_Shortly thereafter ("violence still isn't the answer"), we're dismissed. We ask the secretary for last passes._

_"Thanks for that earlier. My name's Robert Shapiro, but everyone I know calls me Robbie." His voice is quiet and squeaky, but it's nice enough._

"I'm surprised you wanted to work on this with me." His post-puberty larynx pulls me from reverie. "I mean, I know we're in the same class, but wouldn't you usually call Cat or Beck or someone else instead?"

I hesitate in putting on my tough-face. "Don't make a big deal about it. Cat's gonna be too excited about the play to focus, and I don't really want to hear about it. And Beck… well yeah I just don't want to work with him right now." He winces at his faux-pas, but seems to let it drop.

"I guess I'm just cautious about working with you," he deadpans. "Last time we worked together, you tripped me twice."

_"Aren't you embarrassed that two girls just saved you?" I ask._

_"Not at all. The bully at my last school was a girl named Jocelyn. And I have an older sister."_

_"Well, then I guess you're welcome. I'm Jade and that's what people call me. This is Cat."_

"Well, then there wouldn't be internal validity if I tripped someone else. We aced it, didn't we?" Shooting him a devious smirk, I nudge him amiably with my elbow. "Come on Shapiro, how else do you expect to show different masses fall at equal rates?"

He half-smiles, tapping the eraser of his pencil on his paper. "Uh huh. I wonder what they'd say if anyone else knew you were such a huge science nerd."

"Right, but they won't be finding out, _will they Robbie_?" I catch the room's light on my piercing. His eyes widen behind thick lenses.

"Where did those scissors come from?" Black curls bounce slightly as his head shakes in amusement. "I would do anything for _science_," he sings dramatically, "_but I won't do that!_"

"Anything for 'science', exactly." My stomach hurts at how hard I laugh right then. "God knows you're not talking about love any time soon."

Jewfro shifts a bit uncomfortably, "I'm glad you agree, so in the name of experimentation - I hope you don't kill me for this." I cock my head in question.

He starts to get up, though must trip and fall because that's the only plausible explanation my brain is willing to accept for what happens.

Robbie's lips on mine.

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Cliffhanger, I know. Try not to hate me too much.

I'm not very creative with names… Coplin isn't a teacher on the show, I just added "Cobain" and "Joplin" together. Oh to be 27… And my middle school VP's name is "Hall" (that grunch). Jocelyn's a bully on iCarly (iMake Sam Girlier).

Also, I imagine Jade not really giving a damn about people's names, then not necessarily being very generous with the way she chooses to call them


	13. Chapter 13 Backtalk

Stranded in the pouring rain, I'm miraculously dry. This carnival must be magical. Lightning flares around me and my better sense pushes me to the nearby structure that the brief illumination showed to be the closest of any.

It's some sort of haunted house, I think. Fake spiderwebs hang down and blood trails everywhere, blacklights shining down onto winding white arrows. _They did a really good job with this_. The deeper I get, the stronger the sick smell of iron becomes, the arrows coming at greater intervals.

I must be near the center now.

Funhouse mirrors, allegedly-scary clowns running around with scissors. I laugh.

Then I'm in a legit hall of mirrors, I start in a direction, trailing my fingertips along the wall to keep track. A prick - the glassy surface cuts me shallowly and I trace a line across each one I touch. I've closed the red circuit when I realize I'm honestly trapped in a circular room that literally focuses in on me.

Looking straight at one frame, I see the recursive reflections spanning into infinitely minuscule detail too fine for my eyes to pick up naturally. My peripheral vision picks up a foreign movement though.

I turn: it's a person walking to me, but from where? I look at the mirror opposite that one, and the person's still approaching. I catch another motion from my side view, and the process repeats itself.

Closing my eyes, I shake my head firmly. When they open, I'm surrounded by my friends - or well, caricatures of them - hands joined together at the ends of paper doll limbs.

The five of them skip and dance around me in a circle, jaws snapping, clicking apart to reveal serrations of razor rather than teeth. Jumping around, I'm losing sight of whether they're spinning or I am. Dizzy, their features are warping in the mirrors. I'm seeing more multiples of them than I can count and it's entirely possible we're all staying in the same spots as the images bounce in odd cadences.

_This is your life, Jade West._

I shiver, the voice was utterly ghastly and cold. Something about it, though, was strikingly familiar.

Robbie barks a high laugh. "Concavity and convexity, Jade!" he says.

Only it comes out in Coplin's voice. I stare to no avail: no confirmations or explanations are given; instead he pouts a kissy face at me mockingly.

Growling, I make to grab at him. But it was just a reflection and I've cut myself on the mirrors again.

"Don't be such a gank!" Sikowitz's dictation falls from Beck's mouth, which gives a distinctly _Beck_ chuckle when I jump at him this time. The action earns me another ribboning wound - this one bleeding freely.

I unsteadily wonder if the sights and smells all along the way were actually real this whole time.

"Are you sure you didn't mean to hurt him?" Lane filters out of Tori's grinning trap, "You hurt everyone." Giggles fall from her face and they infuriate me.

I'm too tired to attack her though: it's futile. I can't even tell which one's the real her. I'm dizzy and I hurt.

André channels Festus, "Get real, Buddy. Everybody'll hurt you back."

I sit, accepting the cruel words. Disheartened and unwilling to exert the effort for nothing. His goofy guffaw doing nothing to coerce me.

Cat speaks now, "Come on, Jadey!" and it's her true voice. I still at the odd normalcy in this chaos.

It doesn't last: a strange mixture of her own lilt and Mrs. Yonders' sounds follows. "History is doomed to repeat itself!"

"Unless you learn from it," I scream back, but instead of my voice it's that same ghastly note as before. Refusing to acknowledge this, I whip my fist forward, for the first time intending to strike my best friend.

Nimble as ever, she twirls out of the way and I hit the mirror behind her in earnest. She doesn't laugh, despite goading me to rise again.

The image of me forms instantaneously on its features and I finally notice that the others have all disappeared.

Only a moment ago my sights were crowded by copies of the same people, a conundrum of voices flocked around me. Now I stand alone with myself.

"Will you learn though?" my splintering reflection replies without my consent, its voice - equally cold and perhaps even emptier - losing whatever made it so terrible.

The mirror explodes, then the rest do the same. Shards coming down all around me in a shower, except this time I'm sopping wet with my own blood.

I'm just in my bed, in my room, when I open my eyes; nothing wrong.

I know it's ridiculous, but I check myself for cuts and blood anyway, going to the great length of dragging myself to the bathroom and surveying myself in the mirror.

Looking back at myself, though unbloody, it's a big mistake in that my own reflection gives me weird chills.

Averting my gaze, I scold myself for being so skittish when I'm stopped short in my self-flagellation in calm brown eyes over my image's left shoulder.

My eyes close without my permission, but I don't need them to turn around. Cold fingers burn the skin of my right shoulder: blocking my turn. I want to look.

Another coldness itches between my shoulder blades, but there's no time to consider that as a blush of sick warmth blossoms through my chest.

The body behind me shifts their weight. Now my sight returns, drifting to the slim hand on my shoulder. I look up to the left now, eyes zooming in to her sparking browns.

My head tilts up, still holding her gaze until I'm looking straight out the side. She blushes and looks away. An alien giggle on her lips.

The light handle juts out the back of her hand, a marked irony in her smallness on the familiar handgrip.

Jolting to consciousness, I only have one thought.

_This is your life, Jade West._

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Tell me what you think about Jade's dream(s). Sorry 'bout the short chapter, and I promise she'll be awake for the next one


	14. Chapter 14 Recap

AN: Yeah, that last chapter is definitely a nightmare, I shouldn't've said dream. :D?

~~~BM~~~

My palm still stings so it wasn't all a dream.

_My fingers find a connection with his face. "What the flying Euro-sausage are you doing?"_

_"If you want to kill me now, I totally understand."_

_"What the hell Robbie?" I'm spitting rage._

_"I wanted to see something," he murmurs, mostly to himself._

_This only makes me feel worse. "What? How fast I can make you disappear?"_

_"I think I'm gay."_

_The front door opens to reveal an older brunette. "Dang it. We can't talk about it now." I watch, perplexed, as the curly-haired boy helped his mother with a few grocery bags. Listened to their sad, awkward small talk. Saw the confusion in her eyes when she saw me. There was a hope that seemed sorely misplaced, and she seemed to realize it too as it extinguished itself in recognition._

_"Hi Mrs. Shapiro." I wave sharply, ignoring the pleading look on my friend's face, "I gotta jet, see you at school tomorrow Rob!"_

_I almost make it back into the car when lanky limbs grab me with a firmness often lost in their owner. "Jade…_

_"Can you come over tomorrow?"_

I could kick myself now, especially after the night I've had. I haven't been able to focus all day.

"Thanks for coming back."

Rolling my eyes, "Whatever. It's not like we were done with the homework anyway." The spastic boy hands me a glass bottle. _Don't think like that: he handed you a soda. _Right, because if this goes south I won't throw it… "Sorry I broke your glasses by the way."

He waves it off graciously, appearing more charismatic for it. "Why I always have a few spares."

"Your face looks surprisingly okay…" I peer in closer at his too-flawless skin.

"See? There's a use for male make up," Shapiro grins, ushering me into his room. A wipe appears, pinched between thumb and forefinger, to scrub with. Holy cheese on a sandwich, I can see two separate imprints from the outer joints of each finger. _That is _so _unbelievably cool…_

I admit, I'm more fascinated than concerned. _Or sorry. _"_Jesus_, Robbie: are those bruises?" _It's like seeing an x-ray of my hand._

There's a mix of teasing and chagrin in his tone. "Jade West, you are just as scary as the day I met you."

"Why me?" Because the topic is about to get more serious, I set on his bed and get comfortable.

"I needed to kiss a girl." There's no hedging around the matter and I appreciate it.

"That's not an answer, Robbie." I sigh, leaning back onto the orange sheets. Propping against hideously-clashing pillows, I fix him in my gaze, waiting for his response.

"I felt like I could trust you. We've known each other for a long time now…"

_"Rex doesn't want to be in my backpack anymore. Can't he come out during lunch?"_

_"Robbie, we're 7th graders now. You can't just be a dork all the time anymore," I say in a kind of bossy way. "And don't whine. We're supposed to set examples for the lessers, not sink back to their level."_

_Cat chimes in, "It's only the first day: why don't you figure out your classes and stuff before pulling him out?"_

_After he agrees, we make plans to hang out at the abandoned theater downtown so we can catch up. Robbie just got back from his family vacation in Yakima or whatever 3 days ago and he hasn't been able to hang out since._

_All he's told us so far is his dad got him that creepy puppet and he hasn't really put it down. I don't know how I feel about it. It's mean - like meaner-than-me type mean._

_The three of us run around the old stage, the creaking of the floorboards have long faded into white noise. Rex, still a doll with an attitude problem, is proving to be an interesting addition to our activities._

_Still: I can't help it if I blame him on my friends becoming shyer and crazier._

_Finally, a still passes over us when we sit down at a nearby Mexican restaurant. Well, 'us' being me, Cat, and Robbie, mostly to listen to rudeness wazz out of Rex's plastic, hand-controlled mouth._

_By now, I'm pretty used to Robbie being bashed on by his hand-with-a-face - calling him stupid, ugly, lame… even girly until glares were evenly divided between the speaker, real and supposed._

_"Y'know, outta all the cool dudes in Hollywood, I get stuck with this little queermo."_

_Cat refuses to take it this time. "I have a gay uncle in SF, not cool Rex." It's kind of cute she actually directs things to the over-glorified hand-sock._

_"Well I'm not talking at him, pretty girl, just this twinked out faggot here with his hand up my butt." If vent dolls could wink… _Creepy.

_Out of the boy's hand, I grab Rex by the shirt. I lay him flat on the table. "I can put you out of your misery if you'd prefer, but don't you dare talk about him like that! Even if Robbie _is_ gay, that's his deal and we don't need your brand of hate in this world." I'm breathing a little harder, "Do you hear me, you… inorganic scrapheap…"_

_I feel a little silly, in consideration of the serrated table knife I have pointed at _his_ face. _I'm losing it.

"I couldn't tell Cat, she- not after our weird sexual-tension past. Trina too." He's twiddling his thumbs, standing out-of-place in his own room. I budge over and invite him on his own bed.

When he sits, I ask his back, "Then what about Tori? She's super nice, it's not like there was any risk of her tearing you a new one."

"Well, there was that _one _drive-by acting exercise…" Robbie sputters. _You _dog_, you've kissed all the lead female roles in your life._ "Never mind that. She and I simply don't have the history you and I do."

The mini-fridge pops open. _I swear if he pulls out the Heckman's…_ I'm offered another beverage (_sure why not?_) and he pops the top of his. Leaning back, we lie side by side (and I'm only mildly disappointed I can't see the left half of his face anymore) in a surprisingly amiable silence. I don't remember the last time we were quiet for so long. "Where's Rex?"

"I… haven't been carrying him with me so much ever since I've been questioning my sexuality."

"That puppet isn't exactly _supportive_, is it?" I grimace, half-expecting Rex to pop out of nowhere ("You don't know what I got!"), but it doesn't happen and I blame it all on neurosis. "What are you going to do now? Are you going to tell anyone? I mean, it's not a big deal really… We're in LA; this is California. Sure, it's no San Francisco, but it's not unheard of and we're all gonna have your back."

"I could always count on you and Cat, ever since the beginning." He sniffles and I turn to his face scrunched oddly.

The smile is goofy and rare. "Thanks Jade."

"Tell anyone I said that and you die," I threaten. "Actually Shapiro, tell anyone I was here and you'll regret it."

He ignores the threats, probably used to them. "I don't know if I'll be out anytime soon. Like, my parents aren't exactly proud of me as it is." I nod, understanding the concept of being a familial disappointment. "Maybe at school, where there are some other queer kids and gay couples. I'll start bringing Rex some more, I've been kind of bored without him.

"Anyway, I guess it's for the best that I got Shaggy instead of the lead. It'd just be too awkward to have to kiss Cat, especially since I'd've figured it out at some point."

"I can see th- _wait what did you say?"_

"That it's best I wasn't chosen to play Fred. Why?"

"Let me see your script."

The taller teen rolls out of bed, rushing to give me his book. Opening it to the first page, he's scribbled our classmates' names next to their roles.

"Daphne (_Cat_). Fred (_Beck_). Scooby Doo (_Tori_). Shaggy (_Me!_). Velma (_Grace Jacobs_). Vincent the Groundskeeper (_Eli Webb_). [nameless] Janitor/villain (_André_)."

_Well wouldja look at that?_ Leafing through the paperback, I find what I'm looking for: the kiss scene between Fred and Daphne.

_"If you had been _listening_… a classic mystery series… recategorize…"_

Fuck me gently with a sideways chainsaw. "Scooby-fucking-Doo is the classic work we're reanalyzing? WHY."

"Huh? What do you mean _why_? It's Sikowitz. He threw himself through a window of his own to make us break character." He empties his bottle greedily. "And where have you been? We started working with this script last Monday."

"I guess I got lazy after Sinjin gave me the Restful Reader's version. Seriously though, I didn't think much about it after I assumed it'd be like Shakespeare or something.

"Let's not talk about it. How 'bout we finish those problems Mr C gave us before I head outta here?"

Doing just that, I'm glad he didn't have any objections since I had a lot to take my mind off of.

I just needed to process how I feel about some of this alone. _Like why I feel relieved._

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Sorry 'bout the delay, and the next chapter will probably some time too, winding up the school year and all. Alas, this story is just starting (as far as I'm concerned) and will eventually finish, eventually, chapters and chapters later. ^_^ Love and cookies!


	15. Chapter 15 The More Things Stay The Same

AN: Don't cry, kikouma, it's gonna be okay. I'll give fair warning when I'm winding it down (though it'll probably be obvious by then).

Further, I'm super sorry about how long it's been! I didn't imagine I'd be gone for like a month. Please don't hate me ;_;

~~~BM~~~

"Cat!"

_Maybe I should've called earlier… Whatever._ As it stands, it's 1 in the morning and the call has been answered, even if she's mostly asleep on the line.

"Whaty?" she asks drowsily. Then: "Jade? What d'you want?"

… Guess it's nice she doesn't try to be something she's not with me. "I'm taking you to school tomorrow. Nate can sleep in."

"Kay-kay. Bye."

I whisper back a _bye_, wondering what I would've said to her if I asked her to stay on.

My right hand flops away from my face, landing outstretched beside me, and releases the PearPhone onto the pillow.

Cat's been crazier than usual recently. And doggammit I hope it's only her discomfort over kissing Beck, her wanting attention, or even just my imagination. At our 17 years, I _really _really hope that _I'm _the one bugging out.

_"Those designs are really cool, Cat." I catch my friend's left arm. "Where'd ya get the idea?"_

_"Oh, I was just doodling." She sounds nervous though. I want to know why._

_Eyes narrowing, I take a closer look at the decorative forearm. My best friend's been acting really weird lately… laughing at nothing, screaming some words and then whispering, being really bouncy._

_We're just getting back from Spring Break and she hasn't really been hanging out with Robbie (which I totally get 'cause he's been with Rex since he got it over summer and Rex totally picks on Cat). She hasn't hung out with André and Beck, two (sort of decent) new kids because of redistricting._

_Just me, really. Laying on her bed like we usually do._

_It's getting to where I don't know how to be around her anymore. The little brunette is acting like a complete loon. _And I'm gonna get to the bottom of it.

_Cat tries to pull her arm back ("It's nothing, Jadey"), but I'm stronger so she eventually closes her eyes and gives up. Through the thick of all the ink, I see them._

_Five parallel lines, two raised sharply, on the untanned skin - heavily drawn over. "Cat…"_

_"Don't, Jade." Her voice is hard and so are her eyes. "Don't give me some lecture, I know it was a stupid idea and it was just this one time."_

_My "We'll talk about this later" becomes a full-fledged "Why?" later that day when she sits down on my bed._

_She shrugs helplessly, losing the cold edge in her demeanor. "I don't know, the Internet says this is what depressed teenagers do."_

_I raise my eyebrow at the precocious one. "So why are you depressed?" I don't know why I had to ask; I wasn't ready for the answer._

_She shrugs again and I feel like we should relocate this conversation to the bathroom in case I get sick; we do anyway so I can wash away some of the ink. "I'm lonely._

_"My parents aren't around anymore." Her eyes shift from mine to her ceiling. "It's all been _Nate this_ or _Nate that_ since he was diagnosed."_

_"Is that why you've been acting like this? At weird and wazzy?"_

_"My brother gets all this attention for being really messed up, so I thought I'd try it. Nobody notices me anymore."_

_A sharpness lances through me. "Don't I count, Cat?"_

Pulling up in front of her house, I debate whether I should honk or wait. The choice is taken from me when she barrels out and flies into my car.

"Hi-hi!" The Cat I know is not a morning person, but I try not to think too much on it.

Her hair is the same red as usual, but there's something about _her _that makes it glow differently. "I was surprised you called, and I thought it was maybe a dream."

"It's so surprising it'd be a dream…?"

"Sure, 'cause you were like avoiding us all last week and after the weekend was more avoidance. Y'know, except for Robbie."

"Jealous?" I tease. I suspected Cat had a vague _thing_ for Robbie - nothing serious, maybe that sexual tension he brought up. I grin when she doesn't deign to answer.

To the dull drone of radio, I shoot quick glances her way: she hasn't moved an inch, staring out over her shoulder. Without distraction, we arrive slightly early and make small talk about the play until the teacher arrives.

The stoicism is strange, yet I let it slide until I don't find her at lunch (where I'm sitting with Robbie and Beck 'cause André's off writing some song to some girl to sing from the café tower again).

"Vega!" Said student stops dead in her tracks, wary to sit, and hovers with her lunch uncomfortably. "Do you know what's up with Cat?"

"Oh, she's in the Theater. Said she couldn't get to sleep last night." Tori sits now, apparently that I had a question made it safer. "Something about a dream she was afraid was actually a nightmare."

I abandon the table to seek out usually-energetic girl. I find her asleep and curled up on her side against some props. Clearing a spot for myself, I settle behind her to lean my back on hers. Even through my top she's cold to the touch.

Rolling back up, I take off a layer to drape over the both of us before I push my tank-clad back to her once more. I shiver before pressing harder to try and warm the icy girl.

I miss Cat, now that I'm not pushing her away. In this position, by her even breathing alone I feel the ache in my chest that I thought was for Beck lessen.

After all, it's very reassuring that they weren't kissing because they _wanted to_. Knowing I'm not being betrayed, I feel a lot better.

_Is this what letting go of someone is?_

Not uncovering an answer: I lay awake. Despite that, 40 minutes later, when the bell rings and the teen leaning on me stirs, I feel better rested than I have in a long time.

"Jadey."

Hearing the smile in her statement warms the heart I'm often accused of lacking. "Kitty."

"Whatcha doin'?"

I laugh at that. "Getting up for school, you?"

"Making pancakes."

"Hey now. 'Smartass comments' are my thing, but I'll let that slide if you and I get to class on time."

Bouncing to her toes, she yanks me up by momentum. She loops her arm in mine and we're off.

Just before strolling in, I get an idea for tomorrow. Forever my best friend, she agrees without question.

"I'm glad you're done avoiding all of us."

She twirls cupcake-red hair around, tangling knots and pulling them out.

My head tilts to the side as soon as I sit down.

Without permission from either of us, my hand reaches out to brush a straying lock behind her ear. It lingers there and weaves down through to the ends where I twirl it off my finger.

Sikowitz bursts in frantically as usual. ("There's an intruder!")

There's a short panic in the classroom, but Cat and I are in a trance - unmoved.

Finally, I smile at her earnestly.

"I love your hair, Cat. Please don't ever change it."

~~~BM~~~

AN:

To be clear, there's nothing wrong with Nate having mental problems (or anyone else for that matter), it's just a stressful circumstance to deal with: especially for family, especially for those who have disorganized or violent tendencies.


	16. Chapter 16 Beck and Forgiveness

"I don't see why you didn't ask André to help."

I watch the crew I've assembled set up the equipment. Cat continues, "Actually, I'm not entirely sure why you asked who you did."

Strange as Courtney is, she's a pretty good bassist. _Plus who else can I get to do it for a jar of creamy peanut butter?_

While I'd love to take my aggression out on a set of skins, I'd really have no leverage to sing… So for that same reasoning, Cat and I are toting guitars today (and even though I know her hyper-feet would own the double kick pedal, it's just not that fast of a song).

Instead, Jeremy from Lit sits with a set of sticks, waiting for my signal.

"Because Beck's his best friend and even if it's not exactly _about_ Beck, it _is_ Beck-inspired so it feels wrong. Then Harris gets all wonky and no one wants to work with the wonk."

As is, the troupe of students I've gathered to help me with this event are as affiliated with Oliver they are with me - that's to say not at all.

I clear my throat and look at Cat. I smirk at how small she looks behind the Rickenbacker. A few strums of the school's Telecaster and I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

"Listen up," the microphone booming my drawl uncomfortably loud, "this song needs no introduction… and if you need one then you're in the _wrong_ place."

Nodding to Jeremy, I nod my head to the beat before joining in. "Ow!

"Midnight, gettin' uptight. Where are you?" Looking down, they're like ants. "You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to 2.

"I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you." I seek our usual group in the crowd, finding Beck's eyes I cry the words at him, "Hey, Jack - it's a fact they're talkin' in town. I turn my back and you're messin' around. I'm not really jealous - don't like lookin' like a clown." Eyelids shut of their own accord.

"I think of you every night and day." It's all I can do to not let my voice crack on the wailed note in the next line: "You took my heart and you took my pride away…"

"_I hate myself for loving you._" A smile crooks half my face when Cat's voice cuts in roughly; I grin at the shock of my peers that she can sound like this. "Can't break free from the things that you do."

Breaking back in with some force behind my vocals. "I wanna walk but I run back to you! That's why I hate myself for lovin' you."

Head-banging, I count the beats.

"Daylight - spent the night without you…" I hover in close to the mic. "But I've been dreamin' 'bout the lovin' you do. I won't be as angry 'bout the hell you put me through."

I look back to my ex and he's paler than I am. I shoot him a wink and my smirk widens.

"Hey man, bet you can treat me right! You just don't know what you was missin' last night. I wanna see your face and say _forget it_ just from spite.

"I think of you every night and day."

I back off and let Cat take over. "You took my heart and you took my pride away…"

Powering through the refrain one more time, I turn away from the crowd. Removing the strap, I look back just in time for the last line.

"I hate myself...for loving you."

I may or may not have mumbled a half-assed 'thanks' but by the time the 330 ES Cat borrowed finally stops warbling, I'm halfway descended from the platform.

I see Beck trying to intercept me, but I'm faster - shooting back through the halls and into the girls' bathroom. _Just when I thought I was too old for cooties…_ He won't follow me in so I'm safe until tomorrow.

In science, Robbie tells me Beck was looking for me, but I mostly ignore it as I turn our work in. _Tomorrow_.

_Tomorrow_ will be Friday. I'll see Cat in history and Beck in English. We'll have Acting and do the play. I can hold out until then, I don't want to deal with Beck if he's mad at me.

Unfortunately, time is a vacuum for me and it's a blink that I'm opening the door to Mrs. Yonders' classroom. I walk toward the redhead's desk, but Emily Berman snags the seat next to her before I can. Sighing and too tired to fight over something this stupid at this stupid time, I take the desk behind Cat's.

Prostrating myself across the desk, I rest my forehead on the cool woodish polymer surface. About to succumb to the darkness I've made, a slim hand pulls me into the light by dragging away one of my hands. The fluorescent lights are way too bright and I'd rather sit in my self-made shadow; I don't complain (out loud) though, flashing a lopsided grin.

1st period turns into 3rd and the scenery changes around me. I hide in my usual seat. Beck sits next to me and passes me a note.

It's been so long since I've passed notes I take a bit longer to decipher his bad boy-writing: "Everything cool?"

Of course, when I respond my own handwriting is a half-script, half-print mess. "Sure. Was there something you wanted?" I snicker when it bounces off his head.

The substitute teacher gives us a dirty look so we cool it for a few minutes.

I'm pretty into the reading when an over-folded paper flies back onto my desk. Checking the coast is clear, I hurriedly open the note.

"I've been getting dirty looks all day. Everyone thinks I was cheating on you."

I look up at him. He purses his lips together and raises his eyebrows in confirmation.

Refolding the paper into a triangle football, I flick it back to him. The golden boy gives an air of confusion.

"I'll fix it," I announce aloud.

The bell sounds for lunch. In light of yesterday's spectacle - standing on the bench isn't enough. Taking two steps I hop to the center of the nearest table with a brief "Watch your food" to the occupants.

"Shut up!" _Works every time._ "Everybody needs to shut their pie holes about Beck Oliver. I was just singing a classic song that has no bearing on him as a person. He never mistreated me and he never cheated.

"Beck is a great guy and anybody would be lucky to have him." I scuff my boot on the painted metal. "That's all."

I jump off and ask my ex-lover, "Good enough for you?"

"Just one last question." I gesture for him to get on with it. "You don't still love me?"

Winded, I suck in a huge breath. "No…" I start, "_Yes_, we've been together for so long I'll probably always care about you. _Yeah_, it gets a little lonely and it still hurts like a bitch. But I'm not in love with you. And if I was, it's like I was just telling those chumps: you're a good guy an' I would totally understand if I _did _still love you."

The handsome actor mulls over my words. He runs a hand through his well-cared-for locks. "_Great_," he sighs.

I cock an eyebrow at him.

"You said I was a _great _guy." Laughing, I punch him in the shoulder. "Okay, okay. Let's get something to eat.

"But you're sure now," he asks, looking for a table, "you really don't love me anymore?"

"Get your head out of your ass."

The silence we lapse into is neither comfortable or uncomfortable, which is kind of weird 'cause those are really the only two options.

"So… Wanna hear a kind of embarrassing story?"

"Hmm… yes!" he quickly 'decides'.

"I thought you were with Cat." I'm met with a look of confusion, so I explain: "For the play, I saw you guys kiss, just the two of you. Twice."

He laughs before stating, "You _know_ that would never happen, right. She loves you."

I sigh. "Yeah I know. It was stupid and I was drunk."

"Uh _huh_. I thought you smelled like vodka…"

"Don't lie, Oliver. It's unbecoming of you."

"_Do it for the love! At the bottom of a bottle…_" I glare at him until he stops singing. "Okay, okay. You're right though, that _is _embarrassing."

"Yeah, I hate you."

And with a radiant smile, the weight in my chest is crushed away entirely in his embrace.

"Aww where's my camera?" André comes over and sits with his own food. "You kids are so cute when you're not being distant."

Not letting go of Beck until the others arrive ("You made up! … I ruined the moment." "Aw man, are you two lovebirds gonna start this up again?" "Rex!" "Yay Beck and Jade are hugging!"), I flip him off for good measure.

Lunch was a little awkward. Time lapsing, my good acquaintances file into the classroom. I don't think I've ever been more excited for a play I'm so not involved in.

~~~BM~~~

AN:

"I Hate Myself For Loving You" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts ("Bottom of a Bottle" by Smile Empty Soul mentioned/quoted)

I know I know, it's a short chapter. More realistically it was half a plot bunny and I figured Beck and Jade could use some reconciliation. Especially if he's to play a bigger role in the future of the story.


	17. It's Fun to Spray Yourself With Mace

AN: Have no fear, the-poetry-of-ink, this is a Cade story. Bade friendship only. I just want Jade to have friends.

~~~BM~~~

The last half of lunch sucked. Robbie opened his big mouth and Cat overhears. _"I'm not bipolar dammit!"_ she had said, becoming invisible for most of the time left at school.

Despite running away from us after the show, Cat insists on coming back to my dad's with me. She promised to come over while he and The Mother were out of town, she says. Before I pinball back to my mom's.

After thoroughly exhausting ourselves over stupid video games, we crawl into bed: first I lie flat on my back and then she wiggles into all the spaces in between. The collective warmth starts to lull me. By the way the hyper-active child stills, I assumed it got to her.

Except she breaks away.

Sitting up, Valentine grabs a lighter and applies it to a cherry-red tealight. Yawning, I rub my eyes, "What." _Why does she wait until I'm groggy to talk?_

"My parents want Lane to administer some tests next Monday."

"What kind of tests?" my eyes refusing to open.

I could _hear _her eyes rolling in the bitterness. "What kind do you think?"

Sitting up to address her, I shrug. "You've been acting off Kitty-Cat, they're just worried."

"Like they're around enough to see I'm 'off'," she scoffs. "I mean, they don't know what I'm like when I'm 'on'."

"I don't think that's how it it works…" My brain is not keeping up with the analogy. "You don't want to take them, do you?"

"It's not like anyone else is being asked to take them!" she's a flurry of activity again. "Anyways, why should they think there's anything wrong with me?"

I'm awake now, seeing red behind my eyelids. Reliving the hardships she and I went through over these years. I _still _have scars from cutting myself on bits of vase in her skull.

Glaring in the dim light, "Because you're acting off and it's about that age; did you forget?"

She looks betrayed - now the only red I see is her hair. I don't like to say it, but it's true and it's not helping anyone to keep her in the dark about these worries.

She knows what I'm talking about. She understands the risks. She _remembers_.

"I'll do the tests," she mutters quietly, sullenly. "But only because I love you.

"Because you've been with me so long, you deserve to know more than _anyone_ else."

I feel a pang of guilt. I shouldn't've snapped. I ask her in a softer tone: "Want me to tell the others?"

"No!" is the reply, so emphatic it shocks me a little. "I don't need them knowing _or_ worrying. Please Jadey? It's been our own little kind-of secret since forever now… I can't handle them knowing there's a genetic chance I'm not just ditzy, but like full-on schizophrenic. Especially if it turns out there's nothing wrong with me. I don't want them to worry."

My arm drapes around her shoulders, trying to comfort the little Italian girl, "Chance or not, it only affects like 1% of the population. You're probably fine."

Cat pushes away from me again, fixing me with a harsh (for her) glare. "My brother, uncle, and cousin all have it to varying degrees. Prognosis? Bad." She shakes her head now. "Even if it comes out negative now, I'm a girl. I'll have to go check again in 20 years."

I sigh back at her, having read the literature she's citing. It was tough chiz to sort through, but by middle school we'd go to look up medical things at the library after class. On the one hand, it was hard and it was far. On the other, super interesting - it sparked my fascination in biology and other "morbid" things.

"Well, here's the silver lining. At least if you _do _have it, it'll take you quick and you'll be mostly functional."

Silent tears streak her cheeks when I look, knees pulled up to her chin, leaning to the other side of the bed. Knowing she doesn't want a hug in her stupor, I extricate myself from the blankets and rummage through old CD's.

Finding what I'm looking for near the bottom of a dusty stack, I pop it into the stereo, resettling with the remote. I jab the squishy arrow until the blue light on the display read "3". I set it to repeat and wait.

We're reclined gently, the music washing over us: me watching worriedly, her in a half-catatonic stupor. The song finishes, restarts, and the chorus plays. I almost jump out of my skin when she grabs me.

"Keep me hanging on."

I sing quietly, "Please can you tell me? So I can finally see where you go when you're gone…"

She hesitates, "So lonely inside, so busy out there." _Waiting to sing back to me. _"All you _wanted_ was…"

I want to grab her by the shoulders, shake her screaming _Don't turn this on me!_ but I don't want to let go of her hand just yet.

So I let it repeat.

"I wanted to be like you, I wanted everything. So I tried to be like you…

"And I got swept away." My thumb rubs circles on the back of her hand. "If you want to, I can save you. I can take you away from here. So-"

Her powerful voice cuts in. "Lonely inside! So busy out _there_ - and all you wanted was somebody who cares." _Stubborn showboat._

Setting the stereo to sleep soon, I drag her down the bed to lay next to me, hoping for the same.

Eventually her breath evens out, Cat's entire body slackening in me and the bed.

She sleeps; I wonder about her possible schizophrenia. It's terrifying.

I know by the research we've done in the past that she probably won't be anything like her brother, thank the gods, but that really leaves the paranoid kind of schizo. I really really _seriously really_ hope it's an act, or some response to the overwhelming responsibility of taking care of someone she shouldn't have to. Because if it's not, I can kind of see the signs.

Bouts of manic highs, occasional loss of interest, janky logic…

She randomly starts laughing sometimes, and I always assumed it was a funny memory 'cause god knows we've had those, but could those be voices telling her jokes?

Dear chizbits I will take up religion to pray she's fine. I don't think the Valentines could take it - they're so into their own thing trying to ignore it already - it would destroy them. More importantly, I'm too selfish to let her go. I would just have to stick around and keep my Cat _mine_ even as her brain warps.

_Possibly against me_. Flashbacks of Nathan going fucking crazy on us play across my half-closed lids.

The small candle burns itself to the quick and my pupils open to absorb the darkness.

Memories lighting up my mind's eye to imagine if I bailed on her all those years ago and leave her by herself with her brother. Let her handle Nate without me. She'd probably be more likely to be triggered into psychosis, but in that scenario I wouldn't even care about her to begin with.

I shake my head violently, banishing the pictures: I can't leave her if she needs me. I don't particularly want to take care of her by myself, but it's a small price to pay so she won't have to deal alone.

Easing out of bed, I start packing in an attempt to distract myself. Gathering the usual things - clothes, school stuff, and a flash drive of my current projects - I drag out the black shoulder bag I always use. Once it's all folded and neatly squared, I quickly spare a glance at the sleeping girl before opening the grandfather clock.

Kneeling at the base, I slide my fingers along the bottom and locate the small notch at the edge of the apparently-solid plank. My fingernail instinctively hooks the underside to crack away the board.

Gingerly, I pull away the cover, lay it on the ground beside me, withdraw the Girly Cow lunchbox. I ball the cuff of my sleeve to wipe my forearm over the painted tin, dust having gathered thickly.

I haven't opened this since the first day at Hollywood Arts.

Sifting through the contents carefully, I reflect briefly on each artifact I come by.

The photobooth strip from my first date with Beck.

My HA acceptance letter.

The ticket stub to André's charity talent show in 8th grade.

A lock of Cat's old hair braided with her red.

The tooth I punched out of Randy Bronson's stupid mouth.

A bundle of my first bus passes.

And what I was thinking of: a piece of broken glass.

I try to smile… _It's fun to run, it's fun to play. It's fun to make things out of clay. It's fun to fill your car with gas. It's fun to break…_ but it falters.

Running the pad of my thumb over the flat of the shard, it's smaller than I remember as I bite my lip to stifle a hiss. I shift to sit on my heels and drop the sharp object in my lap, jerking to lick the small cut.

Tears well up a little as the taste fills my mouth in remembrance.

After making sure it's clean, I throw the blood-greedy fragment back into the box. Closing it, I put it back in its hiding place. Set everything where it belongs.

I look up to find it's already Saturday. The glass rattles in its wooden frame, the door heavily locking. I don't really want to move, but I'm so tired.

I jolt when arms wraps around me from behind, but then I remember not everyone sleeps as deeply as I do. _How long has she been awake?_

Tilting my head back to pull my hair away from my face, I realize I've been crying.

"Monday, I'll talk to Lane and go to the doctor's and get a scan."

"Don't worry," I turn and say, "_I'm just as lost as you_, but I'll always be right here."

~~~BM~~~

AN:

Sorry I got technical about schizophrenia, just details that are only meant to add to Jade's sciency-ness.

"All You Wanted" by Michelle Branch; "Broken Glass" by Matt Bennett (title and lyrics)

Also, I apologize for how late/sporadic I've been lately. Life is weird. I actually love that last scene, but I guess I'm having trouble [doing the actual] writing for this story. Don't worry though, it'll happen. Eventually (plus, I'm caught up in my writing-to-posting ratio O_O).


	18. AUTHORS NOTE sorry

Hey you guys…

Short version since most of you probably don't care: "my life" equals "shit 'bout to go down" so I'll be on a short hiatus.

I'll get back to Believe Me when I can (earliest is mid September, I'm so so sorry).

I won't post again until then and will probably avoid ff entirely to focus on the chaos that is my life, but I'll respond to PM's since I use that email every day anyway.

I had a long version but it was crap. Keep in touch


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